The Guardian
by acacia59601
Summary: Peter is at university and trying to balance the memories and effects of his life as High King with his life in England. Making this more difficult is the fact the woman he is falling in love with constantly brings out the High King in him. REPOSTED 12/08
1. Chapter 1

**12/17/08 This story has been entirely edited, added to, beta-ed and perfected! Many thanks to elecktrum for her tireless efforts assisting me in getting this story the way I had originally planned on it being. So, for your reading pleasure, I give you The Guardian! Review the chapters that you hadn't reviewed before and let me know what you think! **

**With pleasure, **

**Acacia**

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter One: The Baker's Assistant

Peter Pevensie walked across the university campus after the last class of the day; History. Heading for the college dormitory he lived in during school time, Peter readjusted the strap of his book bag, lost in thought. _Of all the days to be studying medieval history it would have to be the Anniversary_, Peter mused, with an inner wry chuckle at the irony. Seven years ago today he had looked for the last time on the mountains and skies of his kingdom. Seven years ago Aslan had told him that he was never going back. Somehow that part had hurt more than leaving had, and the Lion's words had left a sick, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn't exactly lied when he told Lucy and Edmund that he would be able to bear the separation from the land that he truly called home. But even if, at the time, the idea of never going back seemed a challenge that Aslan had given his knight, the reality was a bit different.

He hadn't been able to completely hide his stab of what was almost jealousy when Lucy, Edmund and their younger cousin Eustace came bursting though the kitchen door, smiles almost splitting their faces. The first thing out of Lucy's mouth was a call for Peter and Susan to "Come upstairs with us! We have the most wonderful thing to tell you about!"

Peter didn't bother hiding his enthusiasm for news from the land he had once ruled, and he listened with rapt attention to Edmund as he and Lucy regaled him with their adventures with Caspian sailing the seas of Narnia. He felt horrible for his jealousy when Edmund had said in a small voice, "Lucy and I are not to go back again though. You were right Peter, about it somehow being easier than we would have thought."

Easier or not, Peter knew to listen closely for noises from his brother's bed for the next week or so. While Peter may have been away from his siblings for the period of adjustment, Edmund did not have that privacy, and Peter knew from experience to silently embrace his brother when the sound of the tears that came so much easier in the dark of night could be heard coming from Edmund's bed. There had been no one to dry Peter's tears and he rather preferred it that way. After all, why should he cry over one of Aslan's orders, even if it was the hardest one he had ever been asked to obey? But after the first week or so, the tears stopped and the almost noble resignation set in.

Yet for all of the resignation, every year Peter, and he suspected Edmund and Lucy, would feel a melancholy come upon him on the Anniversary, and he would simply give in and indulge himself in memories of another time and world. History class today had made things even more painful. Having to listen to the professor lecture about battles, swords and the noble age of chivalry just made Peter remember Narnia all the clearer. The comparison that could be made of Narnia and the dreary landscape Peter was walking through was hardly complimentary to his current location. To be fair the college campus was beautiful in its own way, but no sturdy English oak could compare to the walking Trees of Narnia. The food here never seemed as tasty. Most importantly the atmosphere of this world was rarely encouraging when it came to noble or kingly behavior.

Peter was broken out of his wistful thoughts by the sound of his name being called. "Peter! Oi, Peter!" He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. It seemed that no sooner was he convinced that this world could never match Narnia in any way, someone would show him how much potential Earth really had. His friend and classmate, Anthony Jones, ran breathless up to him and clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"Great Scott, Peter, what far off world are you in now! I called you nearly ten times before I managed to get your attention." Anthony doubled over, hands on his knees, wry amusement on his cheerful face.

"Oh, just thinking on what Professor Harrison was saying in history, " Peter replied, looking down at his friend, still panting beside him.

"Ugh, history. I don't care if you think that the Medieval period was one of the greatest ages of mankind, the way Professor Harrison teaches it I'm asleep before he finishes his first sentence. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. You have anything planned for this evening?"

"Just homework, and maybe I'll read a book later on," Peter said.

"Excellent! I know you don't have anything due for a week since you're in the same classes as I am, so you're coming with me. I have something to introduce you to." Anthony seized Peter by the shoulders and led him firmly down the street, away from the dormitory and toward the shops that were in the near vicinity of the university.

Peter sighed. "This better not be another girl... You do know that I am perfectly capable of finding a nice woman all on my own." Peter was getting tired of his friend's well-meaning but rather intrusive and heavy-handed methods of encouraging Peter's nonexistent love life.

"If you must know," Anthony said with an offended, haughty tone. "The baker down the street has several new wares that I thought might interest you, but if you are unwilling to sample the new fruit breads and breakfast rolls, then I will go alone."

Peter smiled at his friend's antics and easily apologized for being snappish.

"That, and the baker's new assistant is really pretty, and I promised I'd introduce you to her," Anthony said almost casually. "She says that she's waiting for, and I am quoting, 'a Knight in Shining Armor.' I offered myself, but she took one look and said that my armor was rusty and I was no knight."

In spite of himself, Peter laughed and nudged Anthony with his shoulder playfully. "I haven't even met her and I already admire her perceptiveness! She had your character spot-on!" Anthony was known throughout the campus for his ability to have a new girl on his arm every week. How he managed to do it without angering any of the girls was a mystery that fueled more than one betting pool.

Anthony mock glared at Peter and continued. "Since she was less than impressed with my knightly credentials I told her about you, my noble-visaged friend, and she said that she was willing to see if I was truthful in my descriptions."

Peter stopped and looked his friend in the eye. "Anthony, I hope you haven't built me up into some kind of noble hero to this girl, because I'm no such thing."

Anthony raised both eyebrows. "'No such thing'? Peter, you could be dropped in the Middle Ages and within a year you'd be knighted by some great king. Should you ever decide to act, the only parts you could successfully play would be Caesar, Henry the Fifth or some other great hero." Anthony stopped and suddenly became serious. "You're the best of us all, Peter, and you don't even realize it." Peter looked away, uncomfortable. Did his Narnian behavior leak so dramatically into his life in England? It was hard to live in a way that let him remain true to the standards he expected of himself and still manage to not attract unwelcome attention. "Makes a fellow feel positively insufficient, " Anthony continued in another lighting-fast mood change.

Peter looked around for a change of subject. "Is that the bakery?" he asked, pointing across the street at a modest store with a bright awning and an open door.

"That's the one," replied Anthony, also grateful for the change of topic. He entered the shop, drawing Peter in behind him. Upon entering the bakery, Peter stopped, closed his eyes and inhaled. The smell of fresh baked bread lingered in his nostrils like the memory of the first day of spring after a long winter. There was no one behind the counter, but noises from the back room indicated that the shopkeeper was still present.

"Leona! Are you here?" called Anthony. Peter looked around at the various pastries and breads for sale, while his companion started up his matchmaking. Peter had been in the shop before, its convenient location making it the prime option for a quick lunch or snack. He saw in a corner of the shelves a row of fruit breads and some new pastries that made his mouth water. He mentally tallied his money and wondered how much he could take back to his room.

"Peter, meet Leona!" came the introduction from behind Peter. Startled, Peter whirled around and saw for the first time the girl that had so easily seen through Anthony's flirtatious manner.

She was about Peter's age, short enough that he could have easily rested his chin on the top of her head, attractive, with a slightly olive complexion that hinted at foreign blood, dark hair and hazel eyes. Peter noticed as he reached for her hand to shake, that she had flour in her hair and smudged across her face.

"Hello," he said, to which she also responded, "Hello."

"See what I mean, Leona? Is he not noble? A true Knight in Shining Armor! The epitome of chivalry!" Anthony enthused. Peter got more than a bit irritated at Anthony's manner. He was no horse to be shown off to whomever was interested! He had worked far too hard to live up to the standard expected of a knight to be mocked like this!

"He is indeed noble featured, but do his actions match?" the woman, Leona, said, speaking to Anthony but still looking at Peter. Then in a smooth motion she swept her skirts out in an elegant curtsy, still looking at Peter.

At first this action made Peter even more irritated, as often happens when someone is in a bad mood and feels as though they are being made fun of. Then he looked in her eyes and saw, not mockery, but challenge. _Prove that you are as noble and chivalric as your friend claims_, the look said. _Show me that you are a true gentleman. _

His chin came up and his irritation fled. This was something he could handle. He had never backed down from a challenge, declared or otherwise, either as a boy in England or a king in Narnia. Matching Leona look for look, he bowed in the old Narnian manner, never breaking eye contact, with one hand behind his back and the other sweeping out in front of him. Feeling that he could do much better than a simple 'hello', he said, "Gentle lady, pray allow me the honor of your acquaintance."

Anthony gave a great shout of excited laughter, but Leona's face broke into a delighted smile, and she took the hand he offered her and rose to her feet. "That you may, my lord. That you may." Peter grinned back, feeling more content and less homesick for Narnia than he had felt in years.

"Now, for business," Leona said. "Is there anything you'd like to get?" The men immediately started gathering treats to buy and take home, Peter heading straight for the fruit breads.


	2. Chapter 2: Cold Worry

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 2: Cold Worry

Peter returned almost every day to that bakery for the new fruit breads, but the bantering conversations he had with Leona were a treat as refreshing and delightful as the pastries.

He was not going to the bakery to see her though, most definitely not. He made certain to go to the bakery at least once a week when she was not working just to prove it! Anthony didn't seem to believe him however, and took great delight in asking every time he encountered Peter how Leona was doing and whether they had decided to court, yet. It was getting quite irritating.

Leona didn't seem to believe him either, but she was much less heavy-handed about it. She never said anything, but her face would light up every time she saw Peter enter, and every day she would have a new topic to discuss with him. He found that he and Leona had very similar tastes in many things, morals most importantly. They would have long talks about the state of the city, country, and even the world, and would debate the various reasons for the decay they could see around them. They both loved the same kinds of books and could spend hours going over the differences in various myths and legends. Peter especially enjoyed the challenge in their discussions about "mythical" creatures, such as centaurs and dragons. Even though he had practical experience with almost any odd creature they brought up, he had to state his opinions in such a way that he would sound as though he'd read it somewhere.

It did feel very good to be able to almost fall back into the mannerisms he used in Narnia. He could relax and play a game of courtly manners with Leona and know that she would not think him strange or old fashioned. He didn't have to worry about slipping a "My Lady" or some other older phrase on occasion, in their conversations as she would not mind, or even notice. She had an archaic feel to her, almost Narnian, but not quite. Peter couldn't tell and it frustrated him. At first he had thought, hoped really, that she had been to Narnia or someplace similar, but he had never summoned up the nerve to bring up the idea of other worlds. Then at other times she would act so incredibly modern that he would give it up as wishful thinking. Either way it didn't matter to Peter, or so he would tell himself.

He wasn't unwilling to consider the possibility of something flowering between himself and Leona, but he didn't like to rush things of the romantic sort. He hadn't really thought about the likelihood of a true romance waiting for him in England. He had always felt that this world simply didn't have a woman who would be able to truly understand him. It was a rather lonely belief since he hadn't ever expected to marry even in Narnia. He had been wed to his country, heart and soul. It wouldn't have been fair to ask a woman to play second fiddle.

He had always known what parts of Narnia the other three rulers embodied. Susan was Narnia's beauty, from the rolling meadows to Cair Paravel itself. Edmund was her honor and justice, unyielding to evil and merciful in the face of repentance. Lucy was her heart, cheerful and a little bit wild and untamed. He hadn't known what his part was until he had revealed his musings to Edmund in a wine-inspired bout of introspection.

Edmund had replied that Peter was Narnia's soul. He brought every aspect of the country, good and bad, together. His passionate devotion to Narnia and what she stood for was unchanging and fierce. He was her protector and he guarded her with the caring of a lover. What woman would be willing to compete with that?

When the four of them had returned to Narnia to aid Prince Caspian, it had driven Peter mad to see how much his country had been changed. The things he loved had been abandoned, destroyed or driven into hiding. He had to fight a wild urge to start re-arranging rocks and bushes in an attempt to get things back to the way he remembered them. It hadn't been until nearly the end that he had realized what he truly loved about Narnia wasn't gone, he simply hadn't been looking in the right place. Aslan always had things well in hand, even if Peter couldn't see it. It had been that solid reassurance that let him give up his crown to Caspian and step back into England. He missed his true home with a longing that sometimes took his breath away, but now he could visit the little bakery on the corner and in Leona, bring a little of home to London.

* * *

Peter was sitting in class about a month after Anthony had first introduced him to Leona, when a campus messenger came into the classroom with a note for the professor. The professor took the message, read it, and cleared his throat.

"If I might have your attention again, please! We have received a note from the chief of police. It's believed by the authorities that there could be a violent criminal wanted for a series of attacks entering this area. Gerard Conroy is considered to be highly mentally unstable and very dangerous to anyone who crosses his path, but women are especially warned. We ask that students please keep an eye out for anyone acting suspiciously, but there must be absolutely NO heroics. Any suspicions are to be brought immediately to the attention of a professor or one of the constables that shall be attempting to keep an eye on the neighborhood. Thank you very much, you are dismissed."

Peter's mind was buzzing, and he felt the tension that had been part of him as High King start pulsing through his veins. He had every intention of letting the police handle any danger in the area, but without a second thought he was making plans on how to handle any situation that could arise. First thing was to make sure that Leona knew about the danger.

Grateful that the last class of the day was over, he quickly hurried off in the direction of the bakery. Worry started to build as he noticed that night was coming on swiftly, and the chill October wind was picking up. He pulled his coat a little tighter around him and hurried onward. Leona closed the shop alone most nights and would then walk home, or so she told him. He rarely came to the bakery in the evenings, preferring to stop by in the early afternoon, when he had several hours in between classes.

He saw a newspaper blow past him as he turned the corner on to Shopkeep Lane, and looked ahead to see if the bakery was still open.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as he saw lights still shining in the windows of Marker's Bakery. He opened the door and went inside, the little bell ringing to announce his arrival. The bakery looked different with so few wares in sight. Leona must have been still taking things down and closing up for the night.

"Leona! Are you here?" Peter called, as Leona was nowhere in sight. Stirrings and footsteps came from the back room behind the counter.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" Leona popped through the doorway. "You already stopped by this afternoon. Is everything all right?"

"No, everything is not alright," Peter replied, pulling off his gloves and holding his cold hands over the gas heater by the front window. "The university received word that a criminal might be loose in this area. I was worried about you and came to make sure you were alright." All of a sudden Peter felt a little silly. It didn't seem likely that Leona would be attacked in broad daylight while at work.

"Oh, dear! That isn't very good news," Leona said. Then in a quieter, almost shy tone, "You were worried about me?"

Peter looked up from his hands. "Of course I was worried about you, with a madman on the loose! I get shivers down my spine at the very idea that someone could sneak up behind you and do all manner of horrible things to you, and I wouldn't be in a position to stop it." He looked out the window again at the swiftly darkening night, and felt another shiver work its way through his body. It almost felt as though the night had eyes - sinister eyes that slid back into darkness as soon as he tried to look into the shadows. An enemy that may or may not be lurking in the dark was something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He turned to Leona, who was gathering up the leftover breads and rolls to take to the back. "You will let me walk you home." It was more of a statement than a question.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Leona replied, bristling. "I'm not completely useless." She passed by Peter to gather the last of the wares on the table next to him.

Peter grabbed her wrist as she passed. "Please, Leona. I'll sleep better tonight if I know you are home safe. I know that you're hardly a wilting maiden, but I would rather you had the benefit of a strong man at your side to deter any evildoers." He let go of her wrist. "I just have a terrible feeling tonight."

Leona's face softened from the scowl it had worn in response to Peter's high-handed command, into something much more sympathetic. "If it makes you feel better, then you may walk me home." She turned and finished picking up the last of the bread and walked to the back. Suddenly she turned and smiled impishly at Peter. "And I'll admit that it will be nice to have someone carry my things for me."

Peter laughed in spite of himself and the situation. That was one of the things he liked most about Leona: no matter what happened she took it in stride.


	3. Chapter 3: Confrontation

Well, here you go folks! The longest chapter I have ever written and the biggest pain in my tush that this story has ever given me. Big, huge thanks to all of my reviewers, especially Cass P. and Andi Horton who gave really long reviews. Thank you everybody!!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter three: Confrontation

Peter looked around the dark streets as Leona fitted the key into the lock on the bakery door. The atmosphere had a sinister feel to it, but Peter had to wonder if it was just his overactive imagination at work. After all, the police only suspected that Gerard Conroy was in this area of London. If they had thought that there was real danger they would have a larger presence in the neighborhood, rather than the occasional patrols that were in effect. Nevertheless, Peter felt very uneasy. He wished for the second time that night that he had brought some kind of weapon; while his sharp little pocket knife was useful for opening packages and cutting string, it hardly counted.

Leona put the store key back into her pocket and turned to Peter.

"I'd better lead," she said. "As you don't even know where I live."

"True enough," Peter responded. "Lead on. How far away is your place?"

"I live in a little flat almost a mile from here. It isn't a bad walk, except in the worst of weather." Leona set a brisk pace and led Peter down the street away from the college and shops.

Peter thought that this conversation could be a good excuse to pry information out of Leona, who had been remarkably secretive about her personal life. "Do you live alone?" he asked, hoping that she would answer. Previous similar questions had been gracefully avoided. For such an open person Leona could be remarkably secretive.

"You mean, do I have a flatmate?" Leona asked.

"I suppose so. I was just wondering if you still lived with your family or if you have a friend that you stayed with." Peter was hoping that any 'friend' in her life was not male and her husband. "Come to think of it, I don't even know if you have a regular suitor or a fiance." He hoped she didn't.

Leona laughed. "If I did, don't you think I'd have mentioned it already?! No, there's no other man in my life, unless you count my cat. I do live alone, but I'm used to it. I thought about trying to get a flatmate, but the flat really is too small for two people, and I prefer the peace and quiet."

Peter kept scanning the alleys and side streets as they walked. There weren't many lampposts in the area, and his night vision wasn't the best yet. He would see what he thought were flashes of movement in the corner of his eye, but when he would turn to see, it would be gone. The feeling of being watched was increasing, and the hairs on the back of his neck still stood on end. The constant paranoia was driving him batty.

"What about the neighborhood? Do you have any problems?" Peter questioned. He didn't like the look of the buildings around them, they were old and rather neglected. He knew that the area west of the university was a bit of a slums, and there were rumors of gangs.

"Oh, there are a couple of periodical territorial disputes between me and some of the locals, but they are sorted out with a minimum of fuss on my part," Leona said. "There's a gang of boys that like to graffiti buildings and bother people if they get bored enough, but they and I have an agreement..." Leona trailed off. "That they apparently are in the mood to break."

Peter whirled around. They were in the center of a intersection, and from every direction young men started stepping out of the shadows. About nine of them, most armed with clubs or short knives, they surrounded Leona and himself. Peter cursed under his breath. Unarmed, he could possibly defeat nine if he was _very_ lucky and managed to get a weapon from one of the attackers, but not while protecting Leona at the same time. He cursed himself a hundred times the fool for not bringing even a walking stick with which to defend himself and Leona. Nevertheless, he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his small pocket knife. The blade was only a few centimeters long, but it was better than nothing until he could get something more substantial.

One young man with a leader's swagger came closer and spoke.

"Well, look what we have here! Bringing a schoolboy into this side of town, Leona. Bad form that. You should know better then to tempt me, but then you were always a tease. Sauntering along in your pretty dresses thinkin' you was better then us. Even when we was polite and all you didn't want to hang with us real men. Still, I think the boys and me can teach you a lesson tonight. I did bring more friends than usual as you can see." He leered at Leona, who crossed her arms over her chest and glared impatiently.

"Fitzhugh, I am going to warn you once more. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. I don't care how many petty thugs you scrape off the dung heap, affairs are going to end the same way they always do." Leona's tone was angry and annoyed, as though the situation was familiar.

Fitzhugh's face turned an ugly shade of red. "You stupid bitch! We'll see about that! Get 'im, boys, the one to bring her down gets second turn."

The other men started snickering and circled the pair. Peter sank into a fighter's crouch and turned to tell Leona to run as soon as she saw an opening. Instead, he saw her reach down, pick up some stones from the pavement and mirror his stance. "Please, try not to get killed," she said to Peter, then, without any other warning, she attacked Fitzhugh.

All hell broke loose. He tried to keep an eye on Leona as he parried attacks from three or four men at once, but she kept moving. His distraction cost him. One knife got through his defenses and slashed a large gash in his upper left arm, and in short succession another nicked his leg.

Leona had been driven against several trash bins, but she dropped the rocks in her left hand, which she had been using to bash those who came within arm's reach, and grabbed a trash bin lid to use as a shield. Peter had the sudden flashback to his early childhood, playing knights and dragons with other children, using similar "shields". This was no childhood game however.

Peter was concentrating most of his attention on Leona, unsure of how good a fighter she was and determined to make sure she was safe. Leona seemed to be doing the same thing, casting more glances in Peter's direction than at her attackers. From her comments to Peter as the fight started, she was certainly unaware of his ability to defend himself against more than one or two foes. Because of this mutual distraction, the fight was going badly for the pair, neither being able to give their full attention to the battle in front of them. Then, in a brief space of time the fighting paused for a split second and Peter and Leona could look at each other, and recognize the others' talent. Peter gave a brief nod, acknowledging Leona's ability to take care of dealing with her own opponents. She nodded back, acknowledging his.

Peter suddenly gave a vicious grin. _This_ was something he could handle. As long as Leona could fight well enough to finish off her own battles, he could win his. He switched from the defensive to the attack, swiftly disarming one man wielding a cricket bat and knocking him down with a kick to the stomach. The next two came in together, but Peter was ready and ducked down. In one smooth move, he grabbed the dropped bat, tripped one fighter and coming up under the others guard, drove the bat into his enemy's gut. With a gasp, Peter's foe went down.

Across from Peter, Leona was blocking knife thrusts from Fitzhugh with her lid, while dodging sweeps of a club from another fighter. A third man came up behind her and grabbed her, making her drop the lid as he lifted her up off of her feet. She snapped her head into his face, while using her feet to kick the club-wielder in the head. Howling, both men fled.

Fitzhugh looked around him at the wreckage of his gang. Only himself and three others were even standing, and he knew that he had lost. He swore and called a retreat.

As he ran out of reach, he yelled back at Leona. "One day I am going to catch you off guard, and when I do, you'll be flat on your back servicing me, where you belong!"

Enraged, Peter ran at the fleeing thug. At his side Leona picked up the bin lid, and grabbing it like a discus, she threw it at Fitzhugh. The lid rose up in the air, sank lower, then crashed into the back of the coward's legs. With a scream of pain, he fell and Peter ran forward, intent on finishing him off as slow and painfully as possible. Peter drew back his foot to kick at the fallen man, when Leona grabbed his arm. "No, Peter, don't. You'll regret it later if you do, and he isn't worth that. If he was, I'd have done it already." The red in Peter's vision died away, and he stepped back, sickened at himself for what he almost did. So much for his knightly behavior...

Leona looked down at the whimpering thug at her feet. "As for you... If you ever come near me or any other woman again, I will give you such a thrashing that this will seem like a treat." Fitzhugh tearfully whined an agreement. She picked up the bin lid and turned to put it back on its bin.

Peter gestured at the gang members who had waited for their leader a few meters down the street. "Take him away, and remember tonight if you think of such antics again. Come on, Leona, let's get you home."

He picked up her packages from where he had dropped them, and he and Leona continued down the street.

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" Peter asked.

"About once a month or so. Fitzhugh is stubborn and incapable of taking 'No' for an answer." Leona sighed. "He'll pull the same stunts as soon as his wounds heal and his pride has repressed the memory of his beatings at the hands of a woman." She grinned up at Peter. "He usually doesn't bring that many thugs, though. I think a part of him doesn't like the men seeing him whipped. I do fine by myself if he only brings one or two friends."

Peter gave an answering grin. "You're not bad in a scrap, where did you learn to fight like that?" he said.

"Oh, here and there. Where did you learn?" she responded.

Peter grinned. "Here and there." He would have liked to ask her for more details, but as he was unable to divulge the fact that he was centaur trained, he decided not to.

"I will admit that it is easier to fight when you don't have to worry about your companions. I was concerned at first," Leona said. She looked as though she might have wanted to say more, but they had reached Leona's flat and she was fitting a key into the lock.

Peter looked up at the darkened building and the single unlocked window about four feet up. "Do you usually leave a window open?" he asked.

"I usually leave it propped open for the cat, but with it getting cold and this madman on the loose, I'll be locking it when I am away." She looked at the cracked window. "It's in the same position it was when I left." She shrugged and opened the door.

"You better come on in, and let me treat your wounds." Leona took off her coat and turned the electric lights on. Peter looked around and saw that the flat was small, but fairly clean, with little or no personal objects. In any other home one would see mementos of vacations or old toys from childhood laying around, but Leona's home had only the bare necessities.

She led him into the kitchen and sat him down at the table after making him take his coat off. She set her purse on the table next to him, then said, "I keep the medical things in the loo, I'll be right back." She left the kitchen and headed down the hall.

The kitchen was very small, and had the usual things that a kitchen has; dishes, a butcher's block with a selection of knives, and a dishrag left on the counter. The table was rather too large for the room, and was very heavy. Peter wondered absently how anyone had managed to get it up the front steps or if they had just built the house around it.

Suddenly, he heard a bump from the hallway and a smothered cry from Leona. In a heartbeat and without realizing it, Peter snatched up a large knife from the butcher's block and ran down the hallway towards the lighted bathroom. He turned the corner to see Leona kneeling on the floor, muttering savagely under her breath, picking up rolls of bandage off the floor and putting them back in a large tin that she had obviously dropped. There was no one else in sight. Peter gave a huge sigh of relief, lowered the knife and helped her to pick up the spilled equipment.

They sat back down at the kitchen table. Peter set the knife on the table next to him, and presented Leona his injured arm. She swept a wet rag across the wound to clean away the blood. "This isn't very deep," she said, reaching for the gauze. "It shouldn't take me but a moment..." She looked up at Peter's face, then turned white. "Peter, behind you!!" she screamed, keeping hold of Peter's arm and pulling him to the side, off of his chair.

Using reflexes he didn't know were that honed, Peter fell to the floor just in time to avoid the large butcher knife that split the air right where his head would have been. He rolled to his feet and grabbed the knife off the table next to him and turned to face the attacker.

Fitzhugh had been a bully; the man entering the kitchen was a killer. He was stocky and ugly, with dirty clothes and an evil expression. This man had the look of one who enjoyed pain, blood, and death. He leered at Peter, "Didn't think she would have found a man just in time to meet me, but no matter. More the merrier, and man bleeds just as red as woman." Gerard Conroy attacked Peter, giving great slashing blows in the younger man's direction. Heart pounding, Peter ducked and moved in trying to get close enough to use his shorter knife, but Conroy simply reached out and grabbed Peter in a wrestling hold. They smashed back into the heavy table that Leona was trying to get around to come and help, driving the table back and pinning Leona between the very heavy table and the counter.

The two men grappled, too close to use the knives effectively, but getting in small slashes or strikes with the butt when openings were found. The hands that didn't hold weapons were punching and hitting any flesh they could get to.

Peter had originally thought that the kitchen was cozy, but he changed his mind. It was a death trap. He couldn't move anywhere without crashing into a counter or the table. Knife fights might be able to take place in tight surroundings, but they still needed some space. Conroy out-weighed him by quite a bit as well and was using his weight to advantage.

Leona found herself in a conundrum. She couldn't reach any weapons other than the few medical supplies that weren't knocked off the table when it had crashed into her, and those she couldn't throw for fear of distracting Peter. The table had her pinned very tightly against the counter and she couldn't get enough leverage to move it. Peter was losing, she couldn't help and she didn't know what to do. The feeling of helplessness was driving her into a panic.

Peter twisted in Conroy's grasp, trying to get a good enough angle for a disabling blow. He was getting struck pretty often, but the blows were all from the handle of the butcher knife or shallow cuts. Conroy had the weight and size advantage, and there wasn't enough room for Peter's natural agility to be any help. Then, miraculously, Conroy tripped over the spilled box of medical supplies. Peter saw his chance and took it. When Conroy's arms loosened to try and regain his balance, Peter struck, sliding his knife up under his enemy's rib cage. Still locked in a parody of an embrace, he gripped the knife handle tighter as blood gushed from the wound and covered his hand. Conroy seemed surprised at first and he locked eyes with Peter as his face went slack, the eyes dulled, and he slid to the kitchen floor, dead.

Peter staggered into the nearest counter, panting for breath. He hadn't been in a fight like that since his reign as High King. He didn't have the muscle memory that he had had then however, and the fight was far closer than he liked. He reached over and pulled the table away from Leona, who ran around it grabbing another knife off the butcher board, ready to join the fight.

"He's dead, Leona," Peter panted. "It's over."

She walked to Conroy's body, looked down and kicked it as though to make sure. She looked up at Peter. Her eyes were strange, as though they saw something other than the kitchen. "I hate rapists," she said passionately. She started shaking, but her eyes stayed dry. They were hard and cold, with the look of a person who had _seen things_, evil things that should never exist but do - like so many other survivors of the War. Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tight. He could hear her muttering something barely legible. "...thought I was safe..."

Peter rocked back and forth in Leona's kitchen, holding the shaken woman, and softly soothed, "Shhh, it's alright, I'm here, it's over, it's over." He was not surprised that she fell apart in this fight rather than the spat with the gang. The gang members were petty cowards who were for the most part just looking for a easy win, and she obviously didn't have any difficulty in denying them that. This was different. Conroy had clearly been stalking her, looking at her flat and learning her habits. A madman had been watching her, entered her home and she had almost not known until it was too late. Peter would have been more than a bit rattled himself if he had been in her position. He did wonder what she had meant by "thought I was safe".

After Leona had calmed, he sat her down at the table and washed the blood from his hands at the sink. He couldn't do anything about the blood staining his shirtfront and trousers and he wished he had a chance to change clothes.

He picked his coat off the floor and turned to her. "Do you know of a place we can call the police from?"

She wiped her face on a rag and mentioned the corner store a few blocks down the street.

"Let's go, then. We need to get this taken care of." Peter didn't know if he was talking about Conroy's body or the whole situation in general. The corner store was only a short walk, and the shopkeeper was more than happy to let Peter use his phone for a few pence.

Peter was slightly sickened by the night's events. He hated killing. He was a warrior and had to kill many times, but it make his heart clench every time he saw the life go out of a person and after every battle his shoulders felt heavy from the weight of the dead.

TBC.


	4. Chapter 4: Questioning

Here is the next chapter everybody! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you ever so much for the reviews, they really make my day, especially the long ones! hint, hint

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 4: Questions

Peter and Leona sat on the cold, stone steps of Leona's flat, waiting for the police to arrive. Neither wanted to go inside with the dead man still lying on the kitchen floor. Both were silent. Peter thought absently that this would be one of the first times that he and Leona were quiet in each other's company. They didn't find silences difficult or felt like they must always be talking, but they just never ran out of things to converse about. Most of the time they would be discussing or debating something, or just talking about anything that would come to mind, even if it was something as banal as the weather. The silence between them now was heavy, but somehow not awkward.

A large, tawny tomcat wandered up to the steps and looked up at them with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

"Prowler, there you are!" Leona exclaimed, leaning down to pick up her cat. "I was wondering where you were - some guard cat you make..." She rubbed her face against the warm fur, then said quietly, "Though I am glad you were off wandering tonight, you'd probably have been killed if you were at home when that man..." She broke off, gave an almost invisible shudder, then resumed petting the feline in her lap. Peter held out a hand for Prowler to sniff, smiling a little at the memory of another Animal that he had done the same thing to with astonishing results. Prowler seemed ordinary however and obligingly sniffed Peter's fingers. Upon apparently deciding Peter was no threat, he resumed enjoying his mistress' attentions.

The cat jumped from Leona's lap and ran into the night as three police cars, sirens blaring, drove up the narrow street and stopped in front of the building. Peter and Leona rose to their feet as the sergeant got out of his car and walked up to them.

"You the one's who called about Conroy?" the man asked. Peter nodded and Leona opened the door to let the police into her flat. "He's in the kitchen," Leona said, leading the way. It seemed to take the head officer by surprise to see the dead body on the floor, even though Peter had said when he called the police station that he'd killed the intruder. Three other men slid past Peter and entered the kitchen after their leader. One leaned down and checked for a pulse on the body.

"Dead," the officer confirmed. "It's Conroy alright, I recognize his face off the sheets."

"Get the scene secured then, I'll take these two down to the station for interviewing." The head officer motioned for Leona and Peter to follow him to his patrol car.

It was a short and silent drive to the station, but Peter was starting to get worried. Would he be in trouble for killing Conroy? It was self-defense and he could prove it, but what would happen if they didn't believe him at first and he was arrested? What would he do about classes? What would his family say? Would Leona be in trouble as well? He called upon the nobility and confidence of the High King and made himself calm down. Worrying would not do anyone any good, and he'd done nothing wrong, even though he had killed Conroy. What else was he supposed to have done - roll over and let himself be killed and Leona violated and then likely murdered?

The officer pulled up to the station and let the couple out of the back seat. After escorting them into the building he led them into a well-lit room and left to get his superior. Leona seemed nervous as well, and kept twisting her hands in her skirts. Peter gave a small smile, reached over and laid his larger hand on hers.

"It'll be fine, neither of us did anything wrong. We were well within our rights to defend ourselves." She relaxed and gave Peter a smile back.

The door opened and an older man in a police uniform stepped in. "Hello. I'm Sgt. John Fowler, and you are?"

Leona replied, "He's Peter Pevensie and I'm Leona Hart." The officer shook hands with both Leona and Peter, then settled himself across from them. "So, tell me what happened tonight."

They did, starting from the fight with Fitzhugh's gang and ending with the call to the police station, each correcting the other on little details or commenting on something that the other hadn't mentioned. The chief of police listened and took notes, asking the occasional question, but otherwise remaining silent.

When Peter had finished, Fowler put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. "First off, I'd like to thank you both for your assistance in taking Conroy down. He's been a thorn in our side for months. No sooner would we think we had him cornered than he'd slip away again. Don't worry. It is highly unlikely that there will be any charges made against you, Mr. Pevensie, for the events of tonight. Conroy's death was regrettable but understandable, and a clear case of self-defense. On a different note, what's the name of the gang leader who attacked you on your way home? It seems odd that you'd have two attacks in one night. Fitzhugh, you say? Why does that name sound familiar..." Fowler started looking through his papers.

"Sir," Peter asked. "I was curious, what made you suspect Conroy was coming here?"

Not looking up from his notes, Fowler responded, "He has family here, his sister lives in the area. We searched her house once already but found no trace of him hiding there. Aha, here's why the name Fitzhugh sounded familiar, Conroy's sister is Madeline Fitzhugh."

Peter and Leona looked at each other, comprehension dawning on both faces.

"That little bastard!" Leona said, furious. "He must have known his uncle was interested in me and wanted first grab! Oh, when I get my hands on him..." Leona was nearly spitting in rage, and looked truly intimidating.

Peter was feeling his own anger rising as fast as Leona's and he had to battle the urge to go out, find Fitzhugh and beat him until there wasn't enough left to bury.

"Don't go accusing anybody yet," Fowler commented mildly. "Until we bring him in for questioning there's nothing anybody can do, but I can assure you that he will be behind bars within a day, for the attack on you two if nothing else."

Peter choked back his rage with difficulty. This was England, not Narnia, he was no longer High King with the ability to dispense justice to wrongdoers. He would have to be satisfied with what the law could give him, even though the desire to beat Fitzhugh into a bloody pulp was still strong within him. Then he remembered Conroy's body lying in a pool of blood in Leona's kitchen. His anger melted away and his fists unclenched. He had done enough bloodletting for one night. The last thing he needed was to add another ghost to the legion haunting his nightmares. Conroy was enough without adding his nephew to the count of invisible dead following behind Peter's shoulder like a creepy row of malevolent ducklings, incapable of harming him, but still haunting his steps.

"There are only a few more details to sort out," Fowler said. "We'll need to retain control of your flat, Ms. Hart, for at least a few days. We will be happy to put you up in a hotel until everything is cleaned up and all needed evidence is taken. If you like, we can take you back to your home long enough for you to pack a bag or two." Leona murmured agreement, and Fowler again addressed both of them.

"How much publicity are you willing to have with this whole affair? The police will have to make an announcement to the press tomorrow, but would you two rather remain anonymous? There's no need to have your names mentioned if you don't want them to be."

Peter and Leona exchanged glances, and Leona spoke for both of them. "I just want to forget this ever happened. It's bad enough that I'll have to deal with knowing that..." She seemed to be looking for a word strong enough to describe Conroy."...that madman was in my house, in my BEDROOM, without everyone else knowing too." Leona looked a little green at the thought so Peter reached out and wrapped an arm around Leona's shoulders comfortingly. Fowler nodded understandingly, and told them that they were free to go, but not to leave the city until given permission as their testimony might be needed later.

Outside the station, Peter and Leona got into a taxi that had been called to take Leona to her flat and then the hotel, and Peter back to the college dormitory.

"I was surprised that Fowler didn't ask more about how I knew how to fight," Peter commented to Leona, who shook her head at him.

"I'm not surprised. Most everyone these days knows at least a little of how to defend themselves. With the war going on, you need to know something," Leona said. "Besides, you did mention that it was luck that helped you win. Conroy was more experienced than the average man, and under the fighting circumstances..." Peter nodded, thinking that her response made sense.

After a quick trip to Leona's flat during which she stuffed two small bags with necessities, carefully avoiding the kitchen, the taxi was waiting outside a modest hotel near the college. Peter walked Leona to the door. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked. She nodded, "I'll be as right as rain soon. Nothing actually happened to me, but I'll definitely be rearranging furniture when I get my flat back. Leaving it like it is would just make it easier to feel uncomfortable."

Impulsively Peter reached down and gathered Leona into his arms. Surprised, it took her a moment before she hugged him back. Peter let the feel of her in his grasp, real and safe, flow through him, calming him and letting him release the tension of the night's events.

"Thank you," Leona said as Peter let go of her. "For killing Conroy, I mean. It makes me sick to think of what would have happened if he'd caught me alone. I couldn't have fought him off myself, no matter how desperate I would have been." She picked up her bag and turned to go into the hotel. "Goodnight, Peter."

"Goodnight." Peter watched her through the glass doors as she went up to the front desk, then he turned back to the taxi and got in.

He spent the entire trip back to the dormitory thinking, mostly about Leona. She was full of surprises. Every time he turned around there would be something new about her. It was strange and rather disturbing. Peter thought back over the events of the night. The gang fight, where she had shown bravery and an unexpected and unusually good ability to fight. The comments she had made after Conroy lay dead in her kitchen, "I thought I was safe." A little voice that sounded remarkably like Edmund pointed out that until tonight, Peter had never even known Leona's last name.

That realization got Peter thinking over everything he knew about Leona, and he was astounded to find how little that really was. He know what her favorite ice cream was, and that she was interested in mythology of any kind, but he didn't know where she came from other than her vague mention of living in the country. He didn't know if she had siblings or other family, or anything of real substance about her. How was that possible? He'd spent hours almost every day talking with her! He knew that he had told her all about his family and friends, how could he have neglected to find out about hers? Maybe it was just chance, he knew that their conversations were frequently interrupted by customer's or other business. It would have been simple for them to just move onto a different topic when Leona was free to talk again.

It disturbed him that he could know so little about someone that he was now able to admit to falling in love with. Oh, yes. Tonight's events did at least show him how deep his feelings for Leona ran. He had never fought as hard in Narnia as he did defending Leona from Conroy. He knew what it felt like to defend himself, and he knew how it felt to defend another person. Tonight had definitely been the latter, he would have willingly put himself in between Conroy's blade and Leona if he thought it would have helped the situation. He had always feared for Susan, Edmund and Lucy when there was danger around, but it was not the sick fear that gripped his bowels at the thought of Leona being hurt or, Aslan forbid, killed. It was odd. He hadn't even noticed the change from mere interest in a pretty woman into something far deeper.

The taxi pulled to a stop outside the dormitories, and Peter grabbed his book bag, which he had remarkably managed to remember to bring to the police station. As the taxi drove off, Peter took out his key and entered the building, glad that for once there was no one at the desk by the door. He wouldn't want to try and explain his disheveled appearance to a curious chaperon.

As he climbed the stairs wearily, he decided that any questions about Leona would have to wait until tomorrow. He would go to the college nurse in the morning to get his wounds cleaned and his bruises tended. Right now the only thing he wanted was a hot bath, some pain relievers and several day's worth of sleep.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5: Secrets and Lies

Greetings! Delivered fresh for your reading enjoyment, the Fifth Chapter! Please show your appreciation by reviewing. I always get excited about writing when I see review notices in my inbox.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter five: Secrets and Lies

Peter woke stiff and aching all over. His alarm clock was loudly ringing at the usual time, 6:15. He opened one eye and glared balefully at the clock. He reached out an arm and turned the alarm off, and rolled over, thinking. He hated missing classes, but he thought that his taking a violent criminal off of the streets during a furious battle for his life had earned him a day off. He could always catch up later. Almost before he finished the thought, Peter had fallen back asleep.

Several hours later, Peter finally woke up for good. Still bloody and in pain, he made himself get dressed, then staggered out of the dormitory and over to the nurse's office on campus. The kindly but stern woman took one look at Peter and said briskly, "You've been fighting. Well, get on the table! If you want my help, you had better be able to do some things for yourself." Peter stripped off his shirt and sat on the examination table that held court in the middle of the room. The nurse's brisk nature faded into something more sympathetic once she saw the still untreated knife wounds on Peter's body. All told there were five slashes of varying depths decorating the young man's back, one fairly deep cut on his left arm and one on his left leg from the gang fight and what was not cut and bleeding was bruised.

"Good heaven's young man! Were you mugged? If it were a fight, I certainly hope you gave as good as you got." The nurse's voice was dismayed. "With wounds like these, I have to report this to the dean."

"Must you?" asked Peter, dismayed. He was hoping to have to explain the situation to as few people as possible.

"I'm sorry," said the nurse. "It was obviously a fight, and a bad one at that. I'm obliged to have the school authorities brought into the case. Stay here. I need to send a message to the dean's office."

She left the examination room and Peter was left sitting on the table in just his trousers. She came back after a couple of minutes, and started cleaning and bandaging the wounds and putting ointment on the bruises. Peter took the pain with little more than a few harsh breaths and a good deal of teeth gritting. By the time it was over the assistant dean had arrived, clipboard in hand, to hear Peter's story, and to find out if there was anything legal that he would be required to do. The assistant dean was a stern, curt man, but less sympathetic than the nurse. At first he was highly skeptical of Peter's claim of fighting off a gang of thugs in defense of a beautiful girl, and then single-handedly fighting and killing a dangerous criminal. It took many tellings of the story and an offer to call the police and confirm Peter's tale before the man would believe him. Peter couldn't really blame the man for thinking that his story was a little unrealistic - he had a hard time believing it himself. But, unrealistic or not, it had happened and Peter had the battle wounds to prove it.

"Please, sir," Peter asked the assistant dean. "Don't tell anyone it was me that killed Conroy. I think that it would make some of the other students nervous, and I would rather nobody knows."

"But, my boy, you're a hero! Don't you want the credit for doing such a great favor to your country?" The assistant dean seemed astounded that Peter wasn't milking the story for all it was worth.

"I'd really rather nobody knew," Peter repeated, firmly.

The assistant dean gave a great sigh. "Well, if you are sure you don't want me to tell, then I won't." He seemed highly disappointed not to be able to spread the news around campus. "At any rate, you are excused from classes for today and tomorrow. You really should rest and heal."

The assistant dean left, Peter put his shirt back on, thanked the nurse and left the building. He thought about going back to his room and sleeping some more, but felt too restless to do that. His feet turned toward Shopkeep Lane almost without his directing them. He really should see if Leona was doing all right.

The little bell on the door of Marker's Bakery gave a cheery tinkle as Peter opened the door and went inside. The owner, a Mr. Leonard Marker, was behind the counter, putting another batch of bread on display.

"Is Leona here yet?" Peter asked.

The man looked up at Peter and smiled. "No, lad. Leona doesn't start work for another half hour or so. Did you need to talk to her?"

"I just wanted to see how she was doing," Peter said with a small shrug. His back and shoulders were still sore even with the pain medication the nurse had given him. "Do you mind if I wait for her? I had better ask too if you mind my coming to see her when she is working?"

Mr. Marker shook his head. "No, I don't mind. You aren't disruptive and Leona doesn't let her work suffer from your visits. She's a good girl."

Peter took his usual seat at the small table by the large front window. "How long have you known Leona, sir?"

Mr. Marker looked up at Peter, with an almost wary look in his eye. "Almost three months - why do you ask?"

"If you don't feel comfortable talking to me about her, I understand." Peter made a calming gesture with his hand. "It's just that I realized last night that I've come to care about her quite a bit, but I don't really know anything about her past. Don't worry, I intend to ask her about it, too. She just confuses me sometimes..." Peter trailed off.

Mr. Marker stopped looking wary and gave a broad grin. "Fallen in love, have you, my lad? She is a good girl to love, and I know what it is like to be confused by a fine lady! My Catherine confused me every day since I met her, and I am wed to her to this day. I'll tell you what little I know of Leona. Some of it she may not want to tell you yet, but I feel a fellow needs all the help he can get when it comes to understanding the woman he loves." Mr. Marker sat down opposite Peter.

"I first heard about Leona about the middle of July. My younger brother is a preacher in a church on the other side of London. Apparently, he found this woman sleeping on a pew in the church one day, with nothing but the clothes on her back. She gave him her name, but wouldn't say where she was from or why she was there. He gave her name to the police station in case she was missing from her family, but nothing came of it. She was obviously of good family and she carried herself well, but she would never answer questions. Oh, she was never rude about refusing to tell people about herself, but she always seemed like she was trying to leave something behind. Not running really, just leaving something behind her. She stayed at the church for a week or so then started looking for work. My brother knew that I was looking for a worker, ever since my son left as a soldier, so he sent her to me. She was a very competent worker, poised and good with people, so I hired her. I haven't regretted it since."

Peter was enthralled. "What do you think happened to her?"

Mr. Marker sighed. "I don't know. She never told me. I asked her from the start if there was somebody chasing her or if she was in trouble with someone, but she said that there wasn't. She's never told me a lie, so I believe her. If you ask me what I think, and mind you this is only a guess, she ran away from somewhere. With the war over, soldiers' coming back changing things, I think that maybe she had a bad situation at home. Or she could have been in an area that was badly hit during the bombings. People got crazy in places like that, she could have seen anything or had anything happen to her. I've never really asked. She has a right to her privacy, and I almost feel bad for telling you what I know. But, I can tell you really care about her, and you know that if you use what I've told you to hurt her, I will rip you into so many pieces the police won't be able to identify your body." This last was said with a chilling sincerity, and a straight face.

Peter gave a small smile back at the man. "If I use what you told me to hurt her, I'll deserve it."

The little bell tinkled again and Leona came in with a gust of chill air. "Good morning, Mr. Marker! I'm a little early, I thought it would take me longer to get here, but it didn't... Peter! What are you doing here so early, don't you have classes?" She came inside and set her bag down behind the counter, and started taking her coat off.

"The assistant dean gave me the day off in light of my activities yesterday," Peter told her. He squared his shoulders and stood up. He had told Mr. Marker that he was going to take any questions he had to Leona, and he had meant it. "Leona, since you are early, would you mind walking with me for a bit?"

She looked a little uncomfortable and nervous, but obligingly put her coat back on and left the bakery with Peter.

"What did you want to talk about?" Leona asked quietly as they strolled along Shopkeep Lane.

Peter told her what he had learned from Mr. Marker. "Please don't be angry with him for telling me, I did ask about your past, and I am glad he told me. If you like I'll take any questions I have straight to you."

Leona didn't reply at first, but bit her lower lip, deep in thought. Suddenly she stopped and turned to Peter but still didn't meet his eyes. "I won't be able to tell you much, not now at any rate. It's not that I don't want to, I just can't. You will understand why when the time comes and I can answer any questions you may have. But in the meantime, can you take that? Can you stand being with me, knowing that there are things about me that you don't know?"

Peter gave a rather annoyed sigh. "Why can't you tell me? Are you a spy or something? Or do you just feel that you can't talk about painful things?" He was getting frustrated with her obsession with secrets, and not letting people get too close.

Leona laughed. "If I was a spy, I could hardly tell you! But, I can truthfully tell you that I am not a spy in His Majesty's service, or in anyone else's here on God's green earth. The only person I work for is Mr. Marker. But still..." She finally looked up and met Peter's eyes. "Can you pull back and not press me, if I refuse to tell you something that you want to know? I haven't known you for very long, and I am a very private person. Some of the things you may ask about are not my secrets to tell. Can you trust that I have good reason for keeping things from you? Even small things that seem harmless?"

Peter stopped and thought for a minute. There were parts of his life that he could not share either, such as the fact that, for decades, he had ruled a country that could only be gotten into by the will of a talking Lion. But if she had known the right questions to ask and had outright asked him, could he talk? He had kept his own secrets for so long, and for such a good reason. Was it hypocritical to keep his own secrets and still expect to know hers? Could he do as she wanted? He was a man used to getting what he felt he needed, a leftover from being High King of Narnia. Could he be satisfied with just what she was willing to tell him? Could he stand back and let her avoid his questioning? Did he want to? Were the trouble and unsatisfied curiosity she inspired worth the pleasure of her company? All in all, was loving Leona worth not knowing everything about her? _Could_ he love her without knowing about her past? Then, in a flash of insight, Peter realized something. He already knew Leona, he knew the part of her that was HER, the very essence of her personality and character. He knew what she believed, how she felt about things. What he wanted from her past were just facts, things that did form who she was, but were not necessary in order to understand her, and love her.

Peter came to a decision. "Can you promise me that you will never outright lie to me, and if you must mislead me it will not be in a way that will cause damage or pain?" he asked.

Leona nodded. "Anything I tell you will be the truth, maybe not all of it sometimes, but it will be the truth and should not mislead you _too_ wildly. Will you promise me the same?"

Peter also nodded. "I promise. I can live with that for now. There may be room for secrets in a relationship, but not for lies.(1)" He reached for her hand. _In for a penny, in for a pound, _he thought. "Then for my first question, is there anyone I need to talk to for permission to court you?"

Leona gave a bright smile, and shook her head. "I've been wondering when you would ask, and rather hoping for it. No, there is just me, unless you want to ask Prowler the cat."

"In that case," Peter said, giving a courtly bow. "Would you do me the honor of allowing me to take you to dinner and a dance Sunday night?"

She sank into a curtsy in response. "It would be a pleasure, Peter." After both of them rose to their usual positions, Leona said, "You are an amazing man, Peter Pevensie. Not many people could agree to let subjects drop, on the order of a woman."

"That doesn't mean I'm not still curious," Peter replied with a smile. "You are quite the mystery, Leona. Every time I think I have you figured out, something happens and you surprise me again."

Leona gave Peter an impish smile. "Of course I'm mysterious, I am a woman! But, all people are like that. Humans are not one-sided creatures; we are more like many-faceted jewels. Not all of the facets are visible at once, and just because you haven't seen a certain side of the jewel or the person, doesn't mean it wasn't there all along. You are the same way, Peter, but that doesn't mean I can't see myself falling head over heels in love with you, no matter how much about you I know." She stopped and blushed hotly, as though she hadn't meant to say that last part out loud.

Peter smiled back, delighted at her slip, but willing not to press her about it just yet. "So what you wanted to know, was if I was willing to see the sides of you that you are willing for me to see, instead of trying to examine the diamond that is you myself."

Leona nodded. "That's as good of a way of looking at it as any." She looked down at her watch. "Oh, good heavens! I'm late for work!"

Peter laughed heartily. "I'm sure Mr. Marker won't mind, but we can hurry back." Arm in arm, they briskly walked back to the bakery. Even though the day was cold, Peter felt warm clear through. He might not be able to satisfy every aspect of his curiosity about the girl on his arm, but then again, for now he didn't need to.

TBC...

(1)Outlander by Diana Gabaldon.

Author's note for chapter: I am sorry, I promised some fluff to people and this chapter isn't really very fluffy. I tried, I really did. Next chapter will be romantic and kinda fluffy, and should be out in about a week or so. Don't forget to review and yell at me for keeping Leona such a mystery to everyone, including Peter!


	6. Chapter 6: Eyes that Meet and Hands that

Hopefully a little early, the most revealing and fluffy chapter so far. Let me know what you think. I am vastly encouraged by your reviews and they truly do inspire me to greater and higher heights.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter six: Eyes that speak and hands that brand

Peter was quite nervous by the time Sunday evening arrived and it was time to meet Leona at her flat. He may have been well-thought of by many of the women he knew, but he'd never truly courted a woman - not one that he was this interested in at any rate. In Narnia he had been far more of the courted than the one doing the courting and this inexperience made him feel a bit like a gawky boy instead of the grown man he was. He knew, from talking to his sisters and watching Susan and Lucy's suitors, what to do, and, more importantly, what _not_ to do when trying to impress a lady, but he had never felt so nervous putting the knowledge into practice.

As he walked toward Leona's flat, which she had regained possession of three days ago; he grew more and more uncomfortable. What if he made a fool of himself at dinner? He knew how to dance and dance well, but what if he stepped on her toes? His mind started racing through all of the ways that the evening could turn into a disaster, and by the time he got to Leona's block he was wiping faint traces of sweat from his brow. He stopped at the corner to compose himself, and insure that he didn't talk himself out of going up to the door and knocking. Something brushed against Peter's legs, and he looked down to see Prowler rubbing his face on Peter's shoe then twining through his legs.

Peter reached down and picked up the cat. "At least I know that you like me," Peter said to the feline, who purring madly, happily proceeded to cover Peter's coat with numerous orange hairs. Prowler gave him a look that told him quite plainly that he was being stupid, and that his hands could be put to use petting him. Peter smiled, knowing that the cat was right; he was being stupid. What point was there in being someone or something that he was not, just to impress a girl who would not be impressed by his pretending to be anyone other than himself?

Calm now and still carrying the cat, Peter walked briskly up to Leona's door and knocked. She was a little slow in answering the door, but when she did she had her coat and hat on and was ready to leave. Peter put Prowler down inside the flat then closed the door.

"You're right on time," Leona said as they went down the steps and started off towards the small restaurant for which Peter had made reservations.

"I do try to be punctual if at all possible," Peter replied. "Though on occasion I'm late for things no matter how I try to be on time. Classes for instance..."

Leona laughed, and the rest of the walk to the restaurant was filled with bantering conversation about anything that popped into their heads. She seemed a little nervous as well, and for some reason this calmed Peter down as he made it his mission to get her to relax a little.

Once inside the restaurant, Peter helped Leona out of her coat and hat, and then turned and looked at her. What he saw startled him. He had never seen Leona in anything other than practical work clothes with her hair up in a sensible bun. Today she was in a pretty green dress with a full skirt, and her long, dark hair was loose and curly. She wore no makeup and little jewelry, but he thought she looked lovely and hoped that she was as impressed by his efforts at cleaning up as he was with hers. He restrained the impulse to try and tame his hair again.

They gave the waiter their orders and sat back to wait for their food.

"You look very lovely tonight, Leona," Peter said, sincerely.

She looked pleased, and responded, "You clean up quite nicely yourself, Peter." They sat in pleasant silence until the first course arrived.

"I do suppose now that we are at least semi-officially courting, I can tell you at least some things about me that I might not have mentioned before," Leona said, putting down her fork.

"Whatever you feel comfortable telling me is fine," Peter said, making sure that she knew he wouldn't push her. "The only thing I need to know is whether your past will come back to haunt you, to haunt us? I mean, will I have to worry about a mob coming after your blood, and me the only thing in between you and a painful death?"

Leona laughed merrily. "I don't think so, not about the mob at least. We should have plenty of time together. But, back on subject, I can tell you a little about my family. My father worked with cloth and my mother would sew. I had two older sisters, one younger sister and a younger brother. We lived in the country for a very long time, until..." Leona trailed off, looking sad.

Peter felt uneasy. "You said that you _had_ a family, not _have_. Did something happen to them?"

Leona took a deeper breath, and gave Peter a world weary look. "They died a long time ago. There was a terrible fire at the house. I never found out if it was an accident or if someone had set it intentionally." She looked up at Peter again and suddenly frowned and glared across the table at him. "Don't look at me like that, Peter! I hate being pitied, which is why I don't tell many people. I'm hardly the only one to have had this sort of thing happen. I was just lucky enough to be on my way to meet with a friend, or I'd have been in the house with everyone else. Anyway, it was a long time ago. I still miss them all, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore."

Peter took up his fork again, mostly so he would have something to do with his hands. "I don't pity you, not really. You're right in saying that you're hardly the only one who's had bad things happen to them. I am impressed that you didn't let it break you; it takes strength to carry on when terrible things seem to happen one after another. Stories like yours are far too common, with the war destroying entire families in a single night. At least that has been over for a few years. God willing, the peace will last and no more families will be torn apart."

The next course arrived and they ate in silence for a little while. Peter said, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want too, but what did you do after the fire?"

"Sadly, here's a part where I can't give you details," Leona smiled at Peter wryly. "Let's just say that I left were I was, and drifted from one place to another until I arrived here - with you."

Peter smiled back. "I can live with that."

* * *

The dance was held at the university campus and Peter was greatly looking forward to seeing how well Leona danced. He liked some modern music, but didn't really like dancing to it. The band that was playing tonight was doing jigs, reels and waltzes, and the dancing was going to be mostly set dances. He knew that Leona also preferred older types of music and dancing so he was fairly sure that the night would be a success. He was also an excellent dancer. He had better be after all of the dancing lessons he had been bullied into by his sisters and his court in Narnia!

Thankfully, many of the steps were similar to dances in England, and he had retained the gracefulness that had come hard won in Narnia. The fact that dancing would give him an excellent excuse to hold Leona in his arms was a definite perk. He had very rarely touched more than Leona's hand in a less than life-threatening situation and was excited with the prospect of learning whether she was as soft and as warm as he remembered. He was hardly in a position to think of those sorts of things when he was comforting her in her kitchen with Conroy's corpse cooling at their feet.

Hearing the sounds of the band warming up in the next room, Peter helped Leona out of her coat and hung it and his own up in the coat room.

Leona smiled at Peter and said in a teasing, but still warning tone, "I had better warn you ahead of time that if I find any hands straying into forbidden areas, I will be very put out."

Peter laughed, "My dear Lady, you wound me deeply!" He softly spoke into Leona's ear as he reached past her to open the door into the hall where the dance was being held. "What makes you think I would need such crude methods? I promise my hands will not stray, but they won't need to, as you will know precisely where they are."

Leona looked delightfully flustered at his words, but responded bravely, "Then we are evenly matched indeed." It seemed like Peter was not the only one who could ever pass on a challenge. He felt a surge of self-confidence and a knowledge of his own masculinity. He wasn't vain, but he did know that he was considered good-looking, and High King and knight or not, he wasn't above using his looks to advantage when it came to a beautiful woman.

It has been said that the dance is the ultimate seduction. Dance can be the most graceful form of public affection or the crudest, depending on the music and dancers. Set dances such as the waltz contain a certain leashed sensuality, where the man can simultaneously show his strength and restraint, and the woman her gracefulness and desirability. Hands stay in proscribed places, but the eyes can play a game of tag, meeting then parting as the couple twirl across the room.

One of the nicest things about set dances, where couples change partners throughout the dance, is that it gives a courting couple some air in between dancing together so that they can keep the intensity of their romance going throughout the night. Peter was very grateful for these breaks as he was beginning to think that he had underestimated Leona's ability to distract him. He could feel her joy in dancing and thought that the smile on her face as she gracefully moved through the room would have been there regardless of his presence. He was hardly unaffected by her however. They would start each set dance together, but as they would change partners throughout the dance, he would still be able to tell exactly where she was in the room, and could track how long it would take for them to coincide again. Eyes would meet across a room every few seconds, then be pulled back into the dance with a single turn. When they were dancing together Peter could feel every centimeter of her right hand in his left and it made him feel very large and almost ungainly next to her small stature. The feel of his right hand on her waist if even for just a moment was enough to sustain him until the next time the dance moved them together again.

* * *

Leona was beginning to think that she had underestimated Peter's ability to distract her. Their eyes would meet across the room and she could tell that the blush rising to her cheeks and the catch in her breath was not entirely due to the dancing. He hadn't lied when he had told her that she would always know where his hands were. Every time he held her waist, his large hand burned like a hot brand through the cloth of her dress, and the warmth it left behind would sustain her until the hand again resumed its place. The hands never strayed, but a slight tension in his fingers would send a thrill though her body like a bolt of lightning. His hand would almost caress when it would leave hers and his eyes were filled with a love of the dance and something more that she could tell, she had been unabashedly watching, was only there when he danced with her.

They both walked to the sidelines and the refreshment table after the song ended, eager for water and a rest.

"Oh, I think my feet are going to fly away and hide!" Leona said. "I haven't danced in such a long time. I think I'll sit this next song out."

Peter gallantly escorted her to a chair and brought glasses of water for both of them. His face was slightly wet with perspiration and he had shed his waistcoat, but he didn't seem tired at all. Leona had never seen him look so alive and ruggedly handsome. It was incredibly distracting.

"I'll sit this one out as well, then," Peter said, sitting down beside her.

"You don't need to, I'm just going to rest my feet for a minute," Leona protested. "You go and dance; there are plenty of other girls looking for a dance partner. Besides, it wouldn't be proper for us to dance only with each other."

Peter sighed. "You are right of course. Let's dance a few dances with other partners and then join back up in a couple of dances." He rose from his seat and smiling, bowed to Leona, whose stomach gave a funny lurch in response.

Leona sat drinking her water, and almost choked when she saw Peter's partner for the next set. The young lady was almost bouncing with excitement and seemed thrilled to have such a gallant partner. All the boys her age were still far too disgusted with girls to dance, and Peter would smile so sweetly at her. She barely was tall enough to reach the bottom of his ribcage and couldn't have been older than nine! But, Peter seemed delighted to dance with such a happy little girl, and Leona couldn't help but smile at the pair. Peter obviously loved children, and she couldn't help but wonder, as women do, if he would be as patient and gentle with his own?

While both Peter and Leona danced with other partners throughout the evening, they would eventually return to each other and be happier in each other's presence for the parting. The last dance of the evening was a waltz and Peter held Leona a little bit closer than was officially proper, but she didn't seem to mind and willingly leaned into his arm. Both were pleasantly exhausted, and their steps were less enthusiastic than they were at the beginning of the evening.

After joining in the final applause for the band, Peter and Leona got their coats and started walking back to Leona's flat. There was little talk between them, and yawns were discreetly covered even though the night was not too overwhelmingly late, only about 11 o'clock. Peter stood behind Leona as she opened her flat door.

She turned to him before going inside. "I truly had the most wonderful night, Peter. Thank you so very much for taking me out."

"It was most assuredly my pleasure," Peter responded with a grin. He had had more fun this night than he had had since he left Narnia.

They were at eye-level, as Leona stood a few steps higher than Peter. They gave each other an affectionate hug, and just as they were pulling apart, Leona gave Peter a little kiss. She was aiming for his cheek but almost missed, hitting just the corner of his mouth. She would have missed his mouth completely if he hadn't turned his head to try and kiss her. As it was they bumped noses, startling them both and causing them to pull back a little. Without letting go of her, Peter said, with a little chuckle, "Shall we try that again?" He couldn't tell in the near darkness of the distant street lamp, but he thought that she might be blushing. More slowly this time, both leaned forward and their lips lightly touched. The kiss was short and almost awkward but still gentle and sweet. They broke apart, and seeming to be embarrassed by her own daring, Leona swiftly entered the flat and turned back to Peter before closing the door.

"Goodnight, Peter," she said softly.

"Goodnight," Peter replied. She closed the door and Peter started walking back to his dormitory. It had been a good night indeed.

TBC...

Author's note for chapter: Alright people, here's your fluff! I'm not quite sure about this chapter, it seemed kinda off in places but that could just be because I've been rereading it over and over. Let me know what you think, did it seem awkward? Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7: High King Peter, Again

I had such a bad case of writer's block on this chapter that you should be very happy it happened at all. Real life interfered as well, but what else is new...

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 7: High King Peter, Again

Windy October gave way to chilly November, which passed the baton to cold December. Peter could think of very few times he had been happier, even in Narnia. He would visit Marker's Bakery most weekdays between classes, and weekends would be spent out with Leona. They had visited museums, gone to dances, ice skated once the weather turned cold enough, and had spent uncounted hours in various restaurants and cafes talking. On days that Peter had more homework than he could easily manage, he brought it along and they would discuss math and business together, and she would proof-read his essays. When he was available, Anthony would join them and the three would take turns adding to some of the most outrageous conversations imaginable. Anthony's assistance as a chaperon and source of amusement was helpful on many an occasion, but his presence was not one very conducive to serious conversation. One afternoon they spent hours discussing the reactions of various people if the sun rose one morning and was purple!

However, as all courting couples have found out, eventually they run out of places and things to go and do together. The weather was too cold to comfortably do anything outside, there were no dances that night, and Peter was out of pocket money for a nice sit-down dinner.

Peter heaved a sigh. "Winter has to be the worse season to court a woman in."

"I've enjoyed myself so far," Leona told him with a smile. "Why do you say so?"

"There is _nothing_ to do! We've already gone ice skating four times since the pond froze, there's no snow to speak of so we can't go sledding or have a snowball fight. It's too cold to go on a long walk..." Peter seemed almost frustrated. "I can't wait for spring and summer. I have so many plans already."

"You have plans? What are they? At least we'll have something to look forward to," Leona said.

Peter got an excited look in his eye. "We'll go to the beach and have picnics on the sand. We'll take my siblings with us. Edmund and I both sword fight, so we would have duels and mock tournaments for your and Lucy's favor. We'll go to the zoo once it opens and we can see all of the wild animals, even if they would look happier free. We'll ride horses through the countryside and across the sands at the seashore and watch the sun sink into the water and see the stars all come out." Peter lost the excited look. "We'll do all those things... but not for months and in the meantime, we have nothing to do."

"Oh, I wish we could just go to my flat and have dinner there alone," Leona groused. They sat in Marker's Bakery since her shift had ended early. The bakery had turned into a convenient meeting place for the both of them as it was about equal distance between Leona's flat and Peter's dormitory.

"It would ruin your reputation and mine," Peter responded calmly. "But we could sit in the common room of my dormitory. There's always someone there chaperoning. We could pick up some food on the way and just sit and talk."

Without any better ideas, dinner was bought to go and the downstairs common room of the dormitory had two new residents. The room had a crackling fire and Leona and Peter spread their feast on the hearth and sat on the carpeted floor, talking. Over baked chicken and bread, conversation ranged from the weather to their hopes and dreams for the future. Peter just started asking questions of Leona about what she wanted to do with her life, assuming that there were no limitations on the future.

Casually waving a chicken leg for added drama, Peter asked, "If you could live anywhere, in any kind of house, what would it be?"

Leona laughed. "Well, I could never afford to build the house that I would most love to live in, so I don't see how it matters."

Peter mock frowned at her. "No, no, no! That is not how you play this. Money is no issue, time doesn't matter! Now, let's try this again: If you could live anywhere, in any kind of house, what would it be?"

Leona smiled at him, "I would love to live in a castle; a big, old castle with lots of turrets and secret passageways. I don't really know what else would be in it, I've never really spent much time thinking about this sort of thing." She gave him an arch look. "I would most certainly be a queen or at least a princess in my castle."

Peter grinned at her. "I would hardly be able to imagine you as a scullery maid! Then if you are a queen, I am a king. But, tell me more! Where would this castle be? In the middle of a meadow, on the top of a mountain, by the sea?" He said this last with an almost wistful smile, thinking of Cair Paravel, his castle overlooking the Eastern Sea of Narnia. He had been thinking of Narnia more and more since he had met Leona. It seemed that she reminded him of all the things he loved about home.

"By the sea, so I can see the sunrise over the waves at dawn," Leona said, becoming more excited with the conversation. "What of you, Peter? What is your dream home like?"

Peter finished his chicken leg and cleaned his hands on a napkin. "Well, my dream home is a castle by the sea also, but I think I have mine a bit more planned out than you have yours."

Leona, sensing a good description coming, closed her eyes the better to build in her head whatever Peter said.

Peter cast his mind back to the old days when he and his siblings ruled Narnia from the Cair, thinking on all the rooms in the enormous castle, and what events would take place in the adjoining city. He too closed his eyes and let his memory take him far away from the crackling fire and the sounds of automobiles in the streets outside. It had been years since he had sat in his throne in the great hall, had slept in the large bed with silk sheets, watched the dawn with eyes bloodshot from hovering over stacks of all-night paperwork - that part of being High King he certainly didn't miss!

"It is both a castle and a keep, since it has a town attached. There are over twenty turrets and towers with rambling staircases that feel like they could reach the stars. The city is populated mostly by those needed to keep the castle running smoothly, but there will be markets and holidays and festivals all year long. The docks are kept open and in the evening you can see the fishermen coming in from a day's work, a merchant ship moored on the dock with spices and other exotic goods hidden in her hold, or maybe rounding the bend, a visiting noble in a grand ship come to see the royalty. The markets will have everything you could ever want to buy, from fancy cloth to swords, or maybe a new horse.

"If you did buy a horse you will want to take him to the palace stables, which are huge with anything a pampered equine could desire. There would be every kind of mount you could want, all fast and beautiful and ready to gallop across the beach with you on their back. You could take one out for a ride whenever you wanted and there would never be pavement or automobiles to mar the landscape.

"Inside the castle there are many rooms. The guest rooms for visitors all have fancy sheets and beautiful furniture. Other royalty would come from miles around just to get a taste of the hospitality there.

"The kitchens are always busy, except in the dead of night, and even then it's not surprising to see a cook or servant still at work preparing for the next day's feast. The food that comes out of those hallowed rooms is the stuff of legend! Roasts, vegetables in every kind of sauce, soups, breads, and cakes so light and sweet they melt in your mouth.

"The library has shelves upon shelves of books on every subject you could think of. There are tables and comfortable chairs everywhere and it would be easier than anything to lose hours and hours in there reading. You could always take a book with you as long as you still took good care of it, so if you wanted to go out on a balcony or into a garden and read in the fresh air you could do so.

"The great hall has the thrones for the royalty on a dais at one end, and visiting nobles enter though a door at the other side and walk up to the dais to be presented. It is the place where all great ceremonies take place, like the coronations of the kings and queens and the knighting of worthy warriors. Dances and parties are held there and in the summer the windows and doors along both sides of the hall would be opened and the sunlight will stream through them, filling the whole room with light. You can go onto the balconies and see all the way down to the beach and out to the ocean."

Peter's gut clenched with a knife blow of homesickness. He missed Narnia in a way that he knew he would never truly recover from. In a way, he envied Susan her ability to put her time as queen aside and live wholly in England. He knew that England could never truly be his home again. What man, having seen Heaven, could willingly live in Purgatory? He wondered if the pain would ever truly end. Ever since meeting Leona, Narnia seemed to linger at the edge of his mind. All the parts of his past that he had tried to bury were rising to the fore like spring's first buds poking through the newly thawed earth. He dragged a ragged breath through his nose, fighting the inner pain with all his strength. Just when he thought the memories would overwhelm him like a crushing wave, he felt a little warmth course through his body and an echo of a reverberating purr sounded in his mind. The loneliness and homesickness eased with the memory of Aslan's golden mane and welcoming eyes. A memory wasn't nearly as good as the real thing, but it was enough.

The only other places he wanted to mention were his personal rooms; his study, his bedroom, the places that he went to be alone. They were his personal sanctuary. Even when he was High King, only his siblings and a few chosen friends like the Beavers, Mr. Tumnus or General Oreius were allowed in there as guests. The palace staff knew that the royal chambers of any of the kings or queens were to be entered only for cleaning purposes or if they were summoned. To describe those rooms to someone who had never been there and in a way that made it seem as if they were just a dream or wishful thinking almost seemed wrong. He had been describing Cair Paravel as if it was just a hopeful dream, but to do that any longer was impossible, and seemed almost a mockery. He looked at Leona, eyes closed and firelight glinting in her dark hair. A faint smile creased his lips. For a moment he had forgotten that it was Leona he was talking to. If he told her in the context of a dream castle or a real one, she would take his descriptions as real and would treat them as gently as if she had been there. She was just like that, and he loved her for it.

"My study is well-lit, and has a large desk and a comfortable chair. There is a map of the kingdom and surrounding countries on the wall facing the desk. I made sure that the room was comfortable, since as king I knew that I would be spending a large amount of time there. I didn't want to make it too comfortable however, or I would never get any work done, so there isn't a window. There is a table with refreshments in the corner and I could get up for a drink of wine or anything I wanted at any time.

"The study connected directly to my bedchamber. It is my personal area and no one can go there without my permission. The royal suites are in the second highest tower in the castle and the view from my chamber is breathtaking. The room is big and airy with a large balcony facing the northern mountain range. In the fall and winter, I can see the storms rolling off the mountains towards the castle and the sea. I have another small desk against one wall, in case I want to write letters or send a message somewhere in the castle. A large wardrobe stands against the wall next to the desk and in it are the most wonderful clothes. Never scratchy or uncomfortable, they always make whoever wears them look like a king. I don't know if it would be appropriate to describe my bed to a lady, but unless you object I'll do it anyway."

Leona, smiling in delight, gave an encouraging nod, still not opening her eyes. Peter continued. "The large canopy bed sits against the wall facing the balcony. The sheets are silk or the finest cotton depending on the weather, with big fluffy blankets and pillows. Somehow I am rarely too hot or too cold."

Leona finally spoke, but refused to open her eyes just yet. "What kind of things happen in your castle and kingdom, since I assume that if you rule this wonderful castle you rule a kingdom to match it? Do you have many wars or is it always peaceful?"

Peter thought about it for a moment. Narnia during his reign was for the most part peaceful, especially during the last couple of years. But it hadn't been called the Golden Age because it was peaceful, but because it was glorious. There had been some spectacular battles and adventures, and even some times of natural disasters such as terrible storms or earthquakes. Much as he loved peace and hated the killing that came with battles, he got easily bored with peaceful times, when the only thing to do was the day to day work of running a kingdom. He thrived against adversity, became High King Peter the Magnificent when Rhindon was in his hand and he led an army into battle against the powers of evil. His heart started pounding harder as he remembered the battles and tournaments he had fought in over the years. He was losing himself in the memories and did not truly remember that he was sitting in his college common room in England, and no longer cared. His shoulders straightened, his head rose higher and his bearing became more kingly. Without meaning to his voice deepened and became stronger and nobler.

"There would not always be peace, but the battles would usually be small, and few lives would be lost. Tournaments would be held and fighters would come from every kingdom in the world to compete. Disputes would be settled justly and swiftly. The kings and queens would be heard of and respected in every court in the known lands. It would truly be..." He trailed off, his heart too full of memories and wishes to find a word that fit. His heart ached with homesickness and lost glory. He opened his eyes and looked at Leona. Her eyes were still closed, and he could understand the look on her face: longing and bliss combined.

"Magnificent," she said. "It would be magnificent." She finally opened her eyes and looked at him. To his surprise she gave a small gasp and turned pale.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh, I'm fine," she said, sounding flustered. "I just thought I saw something is all."

"What? What did you see? Tell me," Peter pressed her, worried that she might have seen something dangerous.

"It must have been a trick of the firelight, but when I opened my eyes I could see the silhouette of a crown on your head." She seemed awed and a bit nervous.

This statement knocked Peter back into England with an unpleasant bump. Almost resigned, he made an effort to lower his shoulders and act more normal. But, to his surprise, Leona put her hand on his.

"No, don't pull in. I can only guess where it came from, but this facet of you is the best one of all. Don't hide it. This world needs more men who can see what could happen if mankind only tried to recover her lost nobility." She gave a little shake of her head and repeated, "Don't hide this part of you."

He gave her a sad look. "If I don't, I would be thought of as presumptuous or arrogant."

She shook her head. "Just like the palace you described to me, you would be thought of as magnificent."

TBC...

Author's note for chapter: Okay, this chapter is the most tender chapter I have ever written. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted it to play out, but I got it done. You see the gentle side of Leona, and the High King has come forth in Peter. Let me know what you think of it. BTW, the next chapter will be a little late. I usually update on the weekends, but due to a trip I might not have the chapter finished in time. Please be patient, it will be updated within a week and a half or so.


	8. Chapter 8: Christmas Correspondence

In this chapter we start getting into the canon of The Last Battle. I will, for the most part, be keeping to the canon storyline for the rest of my story. Any changes I do make will be fairly small, and should not really change the outcome of canon. You have been warned, so please don't yell at me for changes to canon. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 8: Christmas Correspondence

Despite Leona's insistence on his not hiding what Peter secretly called his "High King" side, he had found it to be far too emotionally tiring to try and live life in modern England in the same sort of mindset as had the High King. For, regardless of good intentions and a noble spirit, he was no one special here. He would revert to the High King when he felt that he could; with Leona or in situations with his peers or on the few occasions that he was called upon to give an opinion on some subject. He had always felt that while Narnia was a wonderful thing, Professor Kirke was right in telling them to keep Narnia's existence a secret. His, or any of his siblings, showing such a drastic personality change, going from English schoolboy to an experienced ruler was a dead giveaway to something having happened out in the countryside. Even as a younger boy, he knew enough to know that if any one of them told the wrong person, they would be considered insane and would have received horrible reputations given to them at best and be locked away at worst! It was too great of a risk for the children to show too much of the mindset and experience of adults. Even though the war had made many if not all English children more adult than their years would account for, it would have brought far too much attention to them to have shown that they had lived entire lives in the space of a minute.

Peter had locked away the part of him that was the older, wiser, experienced man - the High King of Narnia - into a box within his mind and spent his time working very hard to appear as "normal" as possible to the world at large. Any bouts of wisdom or other aspects of his past life could be explained away as his simply being wise for his age or the war having matured him early. It had been surprisingly easy for him to fall back into his day-to-day activities, but all four of the children had to keep a close watch on their behavior, and would look out for each other. When they were still children anytime one of them would become too "Narnian" in the presence of adults, one of the others would cause a distraction until the culprit could get his or herself under control.

Now that he was a man grown in England, things were both simpler and more difficult. Simpler, because now it would not be overly unusual for him to show nobility, wisdom and a grace uncommon in the world around him. It was harder because his memories of being noble and wise and a king were fading. His describing Cair Paravel to Leona the week before was the closest he had come in years to actively recalling his life in the Golden Age of Narnia. Oh, he still had all the memories of his time as High King and could bring up mental images of almost anything if given enough time. It was just that those events had happened so many years ago! Peter had as good a memory as anyone else, but events do fade with time and stepping back into the persona of the High King was more difficult than he would have thought. It all seemed so useless too. No matter where he looked, there was no place that he felt he would be welcome. There was no room for great men and noble knights in this world of economics and practicality.

He desperately wanted to sit down with Edmund and have a long talk. His younger brother had been his sounding board for years upon years, both in Narnia and in England. Maybe talking with him could help Peter sort out his emotions and feelings. Being with his siblings and being able to speak about Narnia with others who had been there was one of the main reasons he looked forward to the holidays.

* * *

Even though Peter was away from his family that didn't mean he was out of contact. Edmund wasn't much of a letter writer, but he would still send post at least once a month. He was going to the local college in Finchley and working on his law degree. It had hardly been surprising when King Edmund the Just had decided to go into law with the intention of eventually becoming a judge. Susan didn't write much since she had gotten busier with her social life and taking a couple of school courses at the local college. Lucy sent letters at least twice a month, more often if events happened in the family, like an argument between the siblings, or a birth or death of one of their distant relatives. He would write back as often as he could and looked forward to each missive's arrival.

Lucy had told him in her last few letters that she and Edmund had been communicating more closely with their cousin, Eustace, and his friend, Jill. Peter, Edmund and Lucy had been so excited when Eustace had wrote to them six years before, telling them of his latest trip to Narnia, and how he had brought a friend along as well. The letter was pages and pages long and told them of how he and his friend Jill had traveled past the Northern border of Narnia in search of Caspian's lost son. But, after that adventure, no other word had come to any of the friends of Narnia from the land they all loved. Even though Eustace and Jill had not been forbidden Narnia like the Pevensies had, they hadn't been called back, either. It was the longest Peter had gone without news from his kingdom. He wasn't worried, Aslan always had things well in hand no matter what the appearances, but it was difficult being so isolated.

Peter thanked the man behind the counter at the university post office as he took his mail from him. He usually didn't have much in the way of post, but Lucy was due to send a letter. Sure enough, there was an unusually fat envelope with Lucy's handwriting on the front. Intending to read it in the comfort of his dormitory he slipped it into his pocket and headed up to his room. He had been frantically studying for his calculus exam, but the temptation of news from home overcame his dedication to his studies. Sitting down on his bed, he opened the letter.

_Dearest Peter,_

_How are you doing? I assume that you are busy with your exams, but I do hope that you can have some time with your lady friend. Leona was her name, right? I can't wait to meet her. Are you thinking of marrying her someday or is it too early to tell? From your descriptions in your letters she sounds positively lovely. I am so excited for you! Susan isn't quite as excited as Mum, but still seems to feel that "it is about time Peter had a nice girl in his life." Mum was almost squealing in delight at the thought of "her handsome boy finding love at last!" Edmund nearly snorted his drink out through his nose when he heard her say that! I don't know if he will try and tease you about it when you arrive home for the holidays -- it depends on whether he thinks he would get away with it. Best be careful though, Mum's on the warpath. I think she wants grandbabies and you are the only one with a serious beau._

_Speaking of coming for the holidays, I received a letter from the Professor. You remember: Professor Digory Kirke. He is arranging for all of us Narnian friends to meet and have a dinner together over the holidays. He wrote that he had a feeling that something is up in Narnia, and felt that maybe if we all got together something might happen. Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if something did happen! It's been so long since we heard anything from Narnia. At the very least it is a chance for us all to get together again and talk about Narnia without having to worry about being overheard or misunderstood. He suggested having it on the 23__rd__ of December, that way it's close enough to the holidays for us having supper together not to attract attention, but not so close that it interferes with the Christmas celebrations. _

_The Professor and Mrs. Plummer will be staying in a hotel near the house, but Jill and Eustace will be staying with us. By the way, Mum told me to tell you that you are welcome to invite Leona to visit during the holidays as long as she doesn't mind sharing a room with all us girls. I told her that Leona can have my bed and Jill and I will kip on the floor. It shall be worth getting together with all the others and to meet your new lady friend. I don't know what we would tell her if she wanted to come to the dinner with us though. Mum and Dad already have plans for that evening so they aren't a problem, but Leona might feel uncomfortable being left out. You will have to think of something to have her do. _

_I am incredibly excited and looking forward to seeing you at home on the 18__th__. _

_Love,_

_Lucy_

* * *

Peter sat on his bed for at least another twenty minutes thinking on what his sister had wrote. The Professor having feelings about Narnia, everyone meeting up over the holidays, and the invitation for Leona to come visit. He had a suspicion that everything was coming together in some cosmic way, but to what end he could not imagine.

It was two weeks until Christmas, exams were almost done, and in six days he would be heading back to Finchley. The only thing that was marring his otherwise cheerful mood was Leona. More specifically, his lack of knowledge of her plans for the next couple of weeks.

Because of the preoccupation that end of semester tests had given him, he had yet to ask Leona what she was doing for the holidays. She didn't have any family to visit, and he knew that Mr. Marker was planning on closing the bakery during most of the Christmas break, so she wouldn't be working. He had a sneaky suspicion that she was planning on doing nothing.

Well, not if he could do something about it! He wasn't a King for nothing after all! He had negotiated treaties and won wars. He could manage to somehow insure that his sweetheart spent at least some of the holidays with him. With the blessing of his parents already in his keeping all he had to do was convince Leona.

For the first time that week, Peter had caught up on all of the note organizing and essay writing that came with the end of the semester. He found himself able to go to the bakery and then take Leona with him to the bazaar being held in a nearby warehouse. He still had to pick up presents for his siblings and for Leona. He was hoping that she might accidentally give him some idea of what to get her if he took her shopping with him. He was also hoping that he might obtain her assistance in picking out gifts for Susan and Lucy. He had never been very good at picking out fripperies and Susan was enamored of beautiful things to wear and surround herself with. Lucy didn't think on her appearance nearly as much as Susan, but she still loved bright jewelry and pretty things. In comparison Edmund was easy to buy for -- just pick out some obscure book or a new chess set and he was happy as could be.

Peter and Leona walked hand in hand up and down the rows of merchants selling their wares in the cavernous warehouse where the holiday bazaar was located. Peter had not found anything that seemed to jump out at him for either Leona or any of his siblings. He was not very worried however; they had only just come in and had barely looked at a third of the stalls. He had been watching Leona closely and observing her reactions to various items. She apparently had little to no interest in decorative knicknack's, but did seem to like books, jewelry and some perfumes.

Peter decided to take the bull by the horns. "Leona, what are your plans for the holidays? Are you going to be visiting anyone?"

She smiled up at him, a little sadly. "Who would I visit? I don't have any family."

Peter frowned a little at her almost evasive answer. "You still didn't answer my first question. You aren't planning on spending the holidays all alone, are you?"

Leona gave him an almost sheepish look. "Prowler is company, isn't he?" She had the bearing of someone who doesn't want to be pitied but still knows that their situation is rather pathetic.

Peter let go of her hand and put his own on his hips. "Ms. Leona!" he said in a mock-lecturing tone. "That is hardly an appropriate state of affairs. While I will willingly admit that Prowler is indeed a King among cats, he is not capable of entertaining you in the manner that you and the season deserve. Thankfully, I have a possible solution. I have been instructed by my family that you are to be invited to come to Finchley for the holidays. As long as you don't mind sharing a room, there will be plenty of Christmas cheer to go around. You won't be the only guest; I hear that my cousin and a friend of his are staying as well."

Leona looked both hopeful and concerned. "I don't want to be an imposition or a bother..." Her voice trailed off in uncertainty.

"You would never be a burden to me or my family." Peter gave another smile. "Besides, if I go for much longer writing them about how wonderful you are without bringing you home to meet them, I could very well be in physical danger when I arrive. My mum and sisters are apparently in raptures of delight at the thought that I might be looking for a wife."

Leona suddenly seemed nervous yet excited. "And are you? Looking for a wife, that is."

Peter gave her a loving, gentle look. "Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

Peter's response did nothing to calm Leona, but she gamely changed the subject to the tables around them.

"Well, I suppose that if I'm coming to visit your family for Christmas I had better find some small gifts as well," Leona said. "Though I can't come until probably Christmas Eve morning. I may not have family to visit, but I do have some other things I need to do and Mr. Marker isn't closing the shop until all the teachers have left. I can stay until after the New Year though."

Peter gave an internal sigh of relief. His worries about keeping Leona occupied during his dinner with the Professor and the other friends of Narnia had been eased. Recapturing Leona's hand they continued down the aisles. "I'll plan on picking you up at the train station on Christmas Eve morning. You can take the intercity train in the morning if you like. I don't think that there'll be any trains or cabs after noon."

Leona seemed to be looking at the various stands with a renewed interest. She kept picking things up then putting them down again.

"You know that you don't need to buy gifts for anyone in my family," Peter told her. She didn't seem to be interested in dignifying that comment with anything other than an arch look that was almost a glare, and Peter decided it was safer to let her have her own way.

Leona started asking questions about his siblings' tastes in gifts, but Peter found himself to be of little help. How was he to know if Susan preferred lavender bath salts to rose? They all smelled the same to him. He could at least tell her that Edmund did not wear any perfumes at all! He could tell that his lack of answers was starting to frustrate his companion. Finally she simply picked out a selection of various bath scents and said that the girls would have to just pick from the selection.

"Alright, now for Edmund and your parents." Leona seemed to be a woman on a mission and Peter felt that at least on this topic he could be of some help.

"Well, my parents are quite a bit easier to buy for. Mum loves to cook, so any new kitchen toy will make her happy, and Dad is fascinated with puzzles. Edmund likes books and anything old or medieval." Peter cast Leona a sideways look. "Soooo, what are you getting me for Christmas?"

Leona looked almost scandalized at his blatant questioning. She put her hand on her heart and said, "Peter! Do you honestly expect me to tell? Shame on you for prying like that. Besides, I've already bought your gift and you won't get even a hint out of me until Christmas Day."

Peter knew that she wasn't truly angry and continued to tease her. He put on his most pleading face, trying to imitate Lucy at her cutest. "Please, just one little hint?"

Leona aimed a small swat at him with her hand and laughing now, said, "No! Stop snooping! I don't give hints."

Peter gave in for the time being, but told himself to keep on asking until Christmas. She was sure to let something slip out eventually.

They had picked up small gifts for both of Peter's parents and Peter had remembered Susan mentioning wanting a specific book that he then happily bought for her. Leona had spotted a book on medieval warfare that she felt Edmund would like, but Peter still hadn't found the perfect gift for Lucy, Edmund or Leona. They were almost to the end of the last aisle of merchants, and Peter was starting to get desperate. They were currently looking at a large display of fairly inexpensive jewelry, mostly formed in the shape of animals. Peter gave a small smile at the sight of an enormous pendant in the shape of an elephant. It was big enough to overpower even the largest woman imaginable.

"Oh, Peter! Look!" Leona's voice broke Peter out of his thoughts. She pointed towards a smallish golden pendant in the shape of a rampant lion. It was almost identical to the lion on his shield and the personal flags of Narnian royalty. "It's beautiful! I love lions - all cats really."

Peter felt a thrill, or was it a chill, run up his spine. He had long since given up the outlandish idea that Leona might in some way be connected to Narnia. But still, he had never actually asked her. Tentatively he questioned, "Have you ever seen a real lion?"

She was still looking at the display of jewelry in front of her. "I've told you before, Peter, I've never been to the zoo."

Peter tried to recover his poise. "Well, not all lions live in zoos."

She turned to look at him, a puzzled expression on her face. "Where else would I have seen a lion? They aren't exactly native to England!"

_Tell her, tell her_. A voice in the back of Peter's head started whispering to him. But he couldn't do it. Not here, not now. "Of course. I don't know what I was thinking." He turned back to the jewelry display to distract both of them.

"Now, what is Lucy's favorite animal?" Leona asked, back to business.

"Lions, actually," Peter told her. "The lion seems to be the favorite animal of all my family. You should fit in perfectly. Let's see what we can find for them."

They started digging through the various baskets of jewelry in front of them. Leona found matching earrings and another two pendants in the Lion motif, and Peter suddenly found several copies of a man's ring in the shape of a crest with the same design. Delighted, they decided that Leona would get the earrings for Lucy, Peter would purchase the pendants for Lucy, Mrs. Plummer and Jill, and the men's rings would go to Edmund, Eustace and the Professor. Peter found another ring and put it in the pile for himself.

Just before they started paying for their purchases, Peter spotted another smaller ring and matching pendant. Also in a lion design the necklace was of a standing lion and the ring was obviously made for a woman, with a lion's head delicately wrought in gold, two small diamonds for eyes. He hadn't spotted it before as it was in the more expensive section and they were only looking for small gifts for the others. It was more money than he had originally planned to spend on Leona, but he figured that he could give her the necklace for Christmas and save the ring for some other time. He made a few quick calculations in his head. Yes, he would have enough money for all of the jewelry plus the fancy set for Leona.

Catching the shopkeeper's eye over Leona's shoulder, he motioned for him to add the lion pendant and ring set to his purchases without letting Leona see. The shopkeeper gave him a small nod and Peter distracted Leona while paying so she wouldn't notice that the total cost was much higher than the gifts for his siblings and friends would have come up to. Shopping done, they headed outside to find some dinner. Peter looking forward even more to the holiday break, now that he knew that Leona would be spending at least some of it with him.

TBC...

Author's note for chapter: My plot bunnies bred again... I think I changed the order of events at least three times for this chapter alone. It's a little late, but it has arrived and is the longest chapter yet. Good thing was that I set a deadline for myself and it kept the bunnies under control. Next chapter should be out in about a week and a half, hopefully sooner, but I can't guarantee it. Please do review, it jump starts my muse which helps me get writing faster.


	9. Chapter 9: Home, Sweet, Home

I know that my descriptions of London and the surrounding areas are likely incorrect. I worked for over an hour trying to get the Internet to cough up maps I could understand. I eventually gave up and decided to use creative license and make things up. So if there are any London residents reading, please don't be offended that I didn't get the locations right.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter nine: Home, sweet, home

Peter boarded the train on December 18, eager to get back home and see his family. Finchley was considered by most simply to be another suburb of London, but it was on the opposite side of London from Peter's college. It was conceivably close enough for him to take a train home every weekend or so, and that happened to be what he had done for the first semester of his college education. But the hours of riding the train, the expense of tickets, and the drain on Peter's time for studies added up, and he had decided to simply stay at the college on weekends. He would still come home for the holidays and the summer.

Peter's father was waiting at the station to pick him up. William Pevensie had served in the war as a medic until he had taken a bullet to the leg two months after Peter and the others had tumbled into and out of the wardrobe in Professor Kirke's mansion. The bullet had done quite a bit of damage, and nine years later he still walked with a limp. While not enough to destroy William's career as a doctor, the wound was serious enough to allow him to be sent home. The next year was spent healing and getting reacquainted with his family. The trip to America with his wife and Susan was partially to teach the lectures he had been hired to do, and partially to see some specialists in America who might be able to do more extensive repair to his leg.

Peter gave his father a warm embrace as soon as his hands were free. War and experience had taught him, and many others, the value of family and the wisdom of showing love while there still was a chance.

The ride home from the station was filled with the usual questions about the semester and exams. To Peter's surprise his dad made the first comment about Leona. Peter had quickly written home telling them that Leona had accepted his invitation to stay with them for the holidays, so her arriving on the 24th would not be a surprise.

"Just so you know, Peter," his dad said with a smile. "Your mum is almost beside herself with excitement about this lass. She's been cleaning the house for days now – why I don't know since with so many people in the place it doesn't stay clean for more than a few minutes! Be that as it may, she's taken the idea that you might be getting serious about a woman and has run with it. If you give her any sort of encouragement at all, she'll have a wedding planned by New Year's. I'll try and rein her in if you like, but I can't promise she won't interrogate your young lady the second she gets through the door."

Peter laughed along with his dad, but made a mental note to inform the family and various visitors not to push if Leona didn't want to talk about something. The last thing he needed was somebody getting offended with Leona's trademark "I can't tell you."

The large house came slowly into view around the corner. That house was full of memories for Peter. Luckily it had not sustained too much damage during the war; broken windows and a few holes in the roof and walls from flying debris.

As the car pulled to a stop in the driveway, Peter let himself fall back into so many childhood memories that had their home in this house. He only had vague memories of Susan's birth and early childhood, but he could still bring to mind Edmund as a baby, and Justin as well. Ah, Justin... His happy little brother. Born ten months after Edmund, Justin was a cheerful, healthy baby, and Peter and Susan delighted in playing with the two little boys. Peter felt a small smile touch his lips, but it was a smile tinged with grief as well. He would never be able to forget the sound of his mother's screams as the household woke one morning to find Justin dead in his cradle. There had been no signs of anything wrong with him; he had just died. His mother's next pregnancy a couple of months later had been watched with eagle's eyes, and after little Lucy had come squalling into the world, she had been treated like glass by the whole family. Even after a year or so had passed and nothing had happened to show that Lucy might be called upon to follow Justin, the doting hadn't truly stopped, much to Edmund's jealous disgust. Peter had secretly hoped for another sibling or two and was delighted when his mum had announced that she was once again pregnant. But in a dangerous miscarriage that little baby was lost as well, and the doctors told Helen that she could no longer have children.

After that the household changed. Not drastically, but in more subtle ways. The nursery next to his parents' bedroom was given back to Lucy as her own room, and Peter was offered his own room as well, but he had declined until Edmund was old enough to easily sleep on his own. Edmund was prone to terrifying nightmares as a child, and many the night was Peter woken from his sleep by the sound of his brother's cries. But when the ever more self-reliant Edmund no longer looked to Peter for comfort from his night terrors, Peter took advantage of the offer of his own room across the hall. Though after they had returned from Narnia it wasn't unusual for Edmund or Peter to end up in each other's room by morning, having been awakened by the other's vivid nightmares of war, loss and bloody battle. After Peter had left for college, his room had become a study and library for his dad.

Peter had no sooner managed to maneuver his suitcases through the door and put them down that he was hit with all the force of a train by Lucy, followed in a more discreet manner by Edmund and his mum.

"Peter, oh Peter, you're home!" Lucy squealed, hugging Peter tightly. Sometimes it was hard to tell that Lucy was seventeen, but then she would act so much older at times and everything would balance out. Helen Pevensie took her turn to embrace her oldest son as soon as Lucy released him.

"Welcome home, dear," was the soft whisper in his ear as Peter wrapped his arms around his mother.

"It's good to be home," Peter replied. "Hello, Ed." He turned to his brother with a query in his eye. To hug or not to hug, that was the question... Edmund had never been the most publicly demonstrative of boys even after Narnia. Edmund answered that question with a smirk and a "Come here, you." With an answering grin, Peter gave his brother a warm embrace, noting that his younger sibling had grown again and was easily looking him in the eye. "We'll talk later," Peter whispered into Edmund's ear before they let go. Lucy, seeing that Peter was again free, attached herself to his back like a barnacle.

"Oof! Lucy, I missed you too, but I still need air!" Peter laughed. "Where's Susan?"

Lucy let go and rolled her eyes at her brother as she answered. "Out at a party."

Mrs. Pevensie gave a more complete answer. "She wanted to be here to meet you, but a friend called and needed her help setting up for a party she was hosting and so Susan went to give her a hand."

Peter was a bit disappointed but not too surprised. Susan had been pulling away from her siblings for over a year now. She seemed to be more interested in getting away from the house and being out with her friends than she was with spending time at home with the family. He could easily understand, she always felt more at home in a social surrounding, but it still was a bit disappointing that she hadn't been home to greet him.

Lucy seemed to regain her excitement and started talking about all the plans for the holidays. "Eustace and Jill are here already, and they will be staying the entire holiday break. The Professor and Aunt Polly will be here on the 21st and we will be having Christmas dinner here with them as well." She chattered on as Peter picked up his suitcases and headed towards Edmund's room which he would be sharing with his brother and Eustace. He poked his head into the living room when he heard the sounds of a boy and girl talking. He recognized his cousin but didn't know the girl with him. He assumed it was Jill, but he had never managed to meet her. She had come with Eustace to visit once before, but Peter had been at school at the time and hadn't been able to come.

"Hello," Peter greeted as he again set his suitcases down and entered the room.

Eustace looked up from the puzzle that he and his friend were working on. "Peter! I heard Lucy squealing about something and I thought that it might be you. I figured I had better wait until she had calmed down before I tried to get anywhere near you."

Peter grinned at the younger boy. "Good idea, she hasn't let go of me for more than a minute at a stretch so far. How have you been?"

"Good so far. Oh, I completely forgot! You haven't met Pole here yet." Eustace rose to his feet and helped his companion up as well. "Peter, meet Jill Pole. Jill, this is my cousin Peter," his voice dropped into a conspirator's whisper, "known in Narnia as the High King Peter."

Jill looked rather flustered and a little overwhelmed as Peter bowed to her. "Hello," she said quietly.

Peter called on his experience putting people at ease in his presence. "It is truly a pleasure to finally meet you in person. You will have to give me all of the details of your time in Narnia. Letters can never truly give her justice."

Jill smiled, "No, they can't really. I'd be happy to tell you whatever you like."

"Excellent!" Peter straightened. "Well, I'll leave you two back to your puzzle as I need to go upstairs and unpack. I shall see you all at dinner."

* * *

Peter started unpacking his suitcases with Lucy sitting on the bed happily chattering away about all the things that he had missed during his time at school. Suddenly she stopped, and Peter looked up at her.

"Are you alright, Lu?" he asked. She was looking at him rather strangely.

"You seem different from the last time I saw you. More like you used to be in Narnia."

Peter gave a smile. "That is mostly Leona's fault. She tends to bring out the High King in me."

Lucy dimpled in return. "That's good though, isn't it?"

Peter's smile disappeared. "I'm not sure. I don't know if there is a place in this world for the High King."

"Maybe not for the High King, but for someone very much like him, I think there will be a place." The voice came from the doorway. Edmund stood there leaning against the door frame looking at his siblings.

Lucy stood up and said, "I think I'll go see if Mum needs help with dinner."

Edmund came in, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed where Lucy had been sitting. He cut straight to the point. "You never used to have difficulty with hiding the High King. What happened?"

Peter gave a frustrated sigh. "I'm not sure if I want to hide the High King anymore. We all hid the aspects of our time in Narnia, like a candle under a basket. It was necessary of course, but now it wouldn't be odd for us to act more like we did in Narnia; noble and adult. But, sometimes it feels like that candle has gone out. Some days I feel so much like who I used to be that it's as though I can turn a street corner and be back in Cair Paravel. Other days I'm so involved in my life here as Peter that I have a hard time even understanding who I was. I don't know who the High King is anymore or who he should be." Peter buried his face in his hands. "I don't know what to do or who I am sometimes."

Peter felt a hand on his shoulder.

"First off, you seem to think of the High King as someone other than yourself. He is you, you are he. The High King is simply a position _you_ filled. I will admit that you behaved differently as High King than you do now, but that is because everyone makes different decisions based on the circumstances."

Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place within Peter's mind, and a great burden felt as if it were lifted from where it had weighted down upon his shoulders. "The High King is just another facet of myself that isn't put into play very often anymore. Just because it isn't always to the forefront of my life and behavior doesn't mean that it isn't always there or is somebody else."

Edmund smiled at him and nodded silently.

Peter shook his head in amazement at the simple answer that had been right in front of him all along. "None of you others ever seemed to have this sort of trouble getting your lives in Narnia and in England from getting mixed up."

"Well, frankly Susan, Lucy and my lives here that aren't that much different from how we lived in Narnia. Of course, eventually we had different responsibilities as we were kings and queens with areas of Narnia to reign over. But you were the one who ruled all of Narnia. You were the one who dealt with the day to day things that running a kingdom involved. You were the one that the foreign diplomats expected to have dealings with. You were required to change into someone that could do all of those things, and do them well. Maybe you feel lost because you are at the same age now that you were in Narnia, but there you had a purpose and a job to do. Here, you are just another person." Edmund made his case with a knowing air and a small smile.

Peter shook his head. "You were as much of a ruler as I, Edmund! You did just as much work as I did."

"Not at first, remember?" Edmund corrected his brother. "I didn't take over actually ruling Lantern Waste full time until I was nearly fifteen. You did everything up until then - you needed to. Neither Lucy nor I had the attention span or the knowledge to do more than attend a meeting or two and give a few good ideas at times. I remember Lucy almost crying over a situation that was brought to her that she didn't know how to solve. You stepped in and resolved the matter, and until she was old enough to truly be a co-ruler you did all the work. You did the same for my responsibilities as well, though I do like to think that I was more help at first than Lucy was. Susan was capable of helping you in many ways and she did, but she tended to be more involved in the running of the castle and in being the hostess for visitors. She did help rule Narnia from the start, but you still made most of the decisions for years."

Peter really couldn't think of anything to say to this, since it was true. Even though the others' were king and queens in their own right, he had been the only one with more than a basic idea of how to govern a country, and even Peter's knowledge had been scanty at first. Thankfully the library of Cair Paravel had many books on the various things that a king or queen needed to know. But Edmund and Lucy really had been too young to deal with running a kingdom as badly damaged as Narnia. The White Witch had left much to be desired in her rule, even by the standards of most dictators, and fixing many of the problems she had caused had taken more than three years. Peter remembered only to well the many, many sleepless nights he had spent desperately trying to make sense of records and papers that were at least a hundred years old!

Edmund gave Peter a curious look. "What I don't understand is how you managed to bury the Narnian aspect of yourself so deeply in the first place. I would have thought with as many 'reminders' you would have gotten it would have been impossible." By 'reminders' Edmund was referring to the phantom pains that all of the Pevensies would get from time to time.

The first link to their lives in Narnia happened to Edmund almost a week after they had tumbled out of the wardrobe and back into England. They had been playing a board game on yet another rainy day, when Edmund gave a sharp cry and clutched his stomach directly over the spot where, in Narnia, the scar from the White Witch's wand stabbing him would have been. Upon examination, no wound or scar was found, Edmund said that the pain had lasted only a minute and had not been nearly as bad as it had been to receive the original wound. Only upon counting out days had they realized that their time in England was mirroring the Battle of Beruna. Thereafter, when their ages in England matched the day and time of a serious wound or injury in Narnia each of the Pevensies would feel a phantom pain where the wound in Narnia would have been. The pains were never enough to disable or truly hurt them, but they still felt something. The girls had far fewer of these 'reminders', as they all started to call them, than the boys because of the propensity of Peter and Edmund to be injured in battle or tournament.

They had wondered what the phantom pains had meant, and eventually came to the conclusion that as their bodies aged again in England they would try and regain the shape and state of their bodies in Narnia. But as time was different there that was impossible and the pains were the closest to Narnian they would ever become again. They also wondered why some wounds would "get through" and others wouldn't, but decided after debating themselves into a tizzy that it didn't really matter.

Peter gave a small shrug. "I don't know; it happens so often I don't truly notice it sometimes. I would become more Narnian after one of them would remind me of something that had happened in Narnia, but after a while they ended up just reminding me to pull back into being 'normal' again."

Edmund gave a satisfied nod. "So that's where you got that habit from. I had wondered."

The two men stopped talking as a knock at the door came. Mrs. Pevensie opened the door and came inside. "Still not unpacked yet, Peter?"

Peter gave a guilty look at the still full suitcase at his feet. "Ed and I were talking. Don't worry, it shouldn't take me but a minute to finish, now that I'm paying attention again."

"Well, I can give you a few more minutes, but dinner is almost ready. Soon as you're done come downstairs and wash up. I'll want to hear all about your Leona over dinner, so you had better not be too hungry."

Peter was, in fact, very hungry and groaned at the thought of trying to eat while fielding questions about Leona, most of which he probably couldn't answer, all throughout the rest of the evening. Oh, well, he really hadn't anticipated anything else.

Edmund smirked as their mother left to go back to her cooking. "Take heart, Peter. Even counting Mum's Spanish Inquisition it's still easier to date a girl here than it was in Narnia."

Peter gave the point without protest. "That is very true. That is one thing I love about Leona. Since I've never told her about Narnia I know that she loves me because I'm Peter, not because I'm 'High King Peter the Magnificent.'" The last title was given complete with a flutter of hands and an exaggerated eye roll.

Edmund looked very serious. "You truly love her then?"

Peter met his brother's eyes. "Ever since I met her, I've felt more like _myself_ than I have since we left Narnia. It's as though when I'm around her I can relax and set myself free to be the kind of man I know I am, without being afraid or ashamed. But, when she's not there, all I'm left with are the memories... and the loneliness." Peter trailed off. "I thought I was able to put Narnia aside, but I don't think I've felt this homesick since we came back through the wardrobe. All the things and places that I loved are floating in the forefront of my mind now and I can't stuff them back. It was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced and I can't share it with her. I want to walk the beach at Cair Paravel again, and see the sun rise over the sea. Every night I dream of Narnia and the places I want to see again and show her."

"Are you going to tell her about Narnia?" Edmund asked frankly.

"I don't know. Something tells me that she would believe me if I did tell her, but what if I'm wrong? I don't like the idea of living the rest of my life with her and never telling her about the most important part of my past. But, I am terrified that she will think I'm insane." Peter gave a frustrated sigh. "I just don't know."

"Talk about it with Aunt Polly and the Professor when they get here. Aunt Polly married so she must have at least some idea of what to do. In the mean time, finish unpacking - I'm hungry and Mum's cooking chicken," Edmund said practically.

With a smile, Peter complied.

TBC...

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated in memory of my older cousin Justin, a victim of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Here's to you, baby. I wish I could have known you.

Author's note for the chapter: My plot bunnies are evil and vindictive. I was having a bit of trouble with a section so I decided to go to bed and work on the chapter in the morning. No sooner than my head hit the pillow, than this whole back story for the Pevensie family unrolled itself in my mind. Of course it was nearly 1:30 in the morning and I'd already shut my computer off... Dang plot bunnies!!!


	10. Chapter 10: Mostly Conversations

Okay, first things first. Due to a change in my work schedule, I have less time to write. I would like to say that I'll be able to make once a week postings, but I can't guarantee it and it really doesn't seem likely. I can guarantee that unless something drastic comes up, I will not go for more than two weeks between updates. I'm sorry, but if I have to frantically write a chapter in order to make a once a week deadline, it really takes the fun out of writing the story in the first place. (And gives me flashbacks to college classes...)

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Ten: Mostly Conversations

Edmund watched Peter finish unpacking his suitcases, then both men went downstairs for dinner. Two long tables had been pushed together to make enough room for everyone to sit down together. Lucy and Jill were setting the table so Peter went to help them. A few minutes later, everyone was sitting down and filling their plates.

There were a few minutes of quiet chewing and "Please pass the rolls," then Mrs. Pevensie looked at Peter with a gleam in her eye. Peter hastily swallowed what was in his mouth and took another bite. Maybe, if he looked busy. . .

"So, Peter. Tell us all about this Leona you keep writing home about. I want to know everything." Mrs. Pevensie looked incredibly excited, but at the same time willing to take no nonsense. Peter cleared his throat. It was now or never.

"The first thing I need to tell all of you about Leona is that she is a very private person. She doesn't let a lot of people know her history, so please understand when I tell you that there will be times during her visit that she will likely say that she cannot tell you the answer to some question you may have asked. Please, _please _respect this and drop the subject. I have been assured that there are very good reasons for her not to be able to tell you something." Peter looked at each of the family in turn and found that they seemed to be taking him very seriously. Mr. Pevensie nodded.

"Do you know if her family was involved in the war?" William asked his son.

Peter shook his head. "I don't know, but it would make sense if they were."

To Peter's surprise his mother was the first to voice her agreement. "I do understand. There are still things that happened during the war that your father isn't allowed to talk about. Even if she wasn't personally involved, which if she is Peter's age I don't think she would be, if she knew something or if her family was high-level military she would be bound to silence. Don't worry, Peter, I won't press her if she says she can't talk about something. All I really want to know is if she'd be a capable wife and mother to your children."

Peter choked. "Isn't it a bit early to be talking about children? I do love her and unless something changes I will likely ask her to marry me sometime, but I don't think I'm quite ready to be a father just yet!" Suddenly Peter realized what he had let slip. His mother had dropped her fork and held her trembling hand to her mouth.

"It's that serious?" she asked quietly.

Cursing himself for blurting this sort of news out at the dinner table without any warning whatsoever, Peter steeled himself for an emotional evening. "It is certainly looking like it. Which is why I am asking you all not to scare her off. I have a good feeling that she'll fit right in, but she will clam up if you press her for information that she isn't willing to give."

Helen Pevensie blinked away what Peter hoped were tears of happiness, and made an effort to control herself. With Peter's major worry safely under control, he looked around the table at the rest of the family, judging their reactions to his bombshell of an announcement. Lucy was grinning widely and looked almost excited enough to bounce out of her chair. Edmund and William were both smiling at him; Eustace looked happy as well. Jill seemed a little uncomfortable to be the only non-relative at the table for what was looking to be a rather personal conversation, but even she looked excited at the news. Peter almost felt a surge of foreboding as he realized just how important Leona's visit was turning out to be. With the knowledge that her son was becoming highly serious about Leona, Helen was likely to be looking Leona over with a future mother-in-law's discerning eye. He reminded himself to warn Leona.

"Please, don't mention this to Leona," Peter pleaded. "We haven't really talked about it and I don't want to tempt fate."

* * *

The only fly in the ointment during the next few days was Susan. Peter had been looking forward to spending time with his entire family, but Susan didn't seem to want to spend any time at all at the house. When she was home she either was very busy, asleep or helping with the holiday preparations. There never seemed to be a time when they could all sit down and talk about Narnia and the upcoming dinner.

The night of the 22nd, Peter was up late reading in the living room as he didn't want to disturb his brother and Eustace who had both gone to bed already. The Professor and Miss Plummer had both arrived that day, but pleading exhaustion from the trip, had gone straight to the hotel and hadn't been seen since. The next day had been well planned. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had two Christmas parties that they were attending and planned on being gone from 5:00 until 10:00 in the evening which gave the Narnians the house to themselves. Lucy and Jill were in charge of the cooking, and had been comparing recipes, and planning to make the most Narnian meal possible in England. Surprisingly, the menfolk didn't have anything to do with making the meal a success. They had been told quite flatly, "You lot will be staying out of our way!" by Lucy who then jumped right back into the menu planning.

Peter heard the door open and shut in the kitchen and guessed that Susan must be home from yet another party. Sure enough, Susan poked her head into the living room when she saw the light still on.

"Oh! Hello, Peter. I didn't think anyone would still be up," Susan said as she came in.

Peter gave a little shrug and put his book down. "I just felt like reading and the other boys are already in bed. How was the party?"

"It was fun," Susan said, "but not the best one I've been to." She made to leave the room and let Peter get back to his book.

"No, stay! We haven't had the chance to sit and talk for so long," Peter complained. Susan looked a little nervous but complied. "I take it you have heard that I'm thinking of marrying Leona. Mum hasn't stopped talking about it since I let it slip."

Susan smiled. "I may have heard a rumor or two. . ." She sobered for a moment and then asked, "Are you sure she's the one? How do you know?"

Peter was about to respond with, "I just know," when he stopped and considered the tone in Susan's voice. Susan wasn't conveying doubt or questioning his love for Leona. This was his little sister asking him how to know what love is. He gave his answer a moment's thought. He needed to get this right.

"I like the person I become when I am around her. I know that it sounds trite to say that she makes me a better person, but that is what happens. She inspires me to reach for greater heights in everything I do. She's a match for me. I don't need to pretend or act like someone I'm not when I'm with her. Not anymore. She is kind, smart and willing to learn anything. She's brave and inspires me to be the same. In a way she guards my back... no, not my back, me. Just _me._ More than my heart, my honor, my faith, my very being. I like to think that I do the same for her." Peter looked at his sister. "That is how I know."

Susan looked a little surprised at his answer, but gave him a sweet smile nonetheless. "You're lucky, Peter. Not everyone finds a love like that. If she makes you this happy Leona has my blessing. I can't wait to meet her. I can only hope that I find a love like that someday."

Peter smiled. "You thought you were in love with Rabadash once, remember?"

Suddenly, Susan drew into herself. "Who?" she asked in a seemingly casual tone.

Peter gave her a surprised look. "Prince Rabadash of Calormen, the man who wanted to kidnap you and keep you as his wife. I'm surprised you didn't think of him immediately. I will admit that you came to your senses quickly enough once you found out what he was really like, but you still seemed highly enamored of him when he first visited us at Cair Paravel."

Susan gave a high, girlish laugh. "Oh, you were talking about that game we used to play as children. I was thinking you were talking about a real person."

Peter was confused and starting to get angry. "What do you mean, _that game_? What are you playing at, Su? Are you trying to tell me that you think Narnia was only a game? You have to be joking!"

Susan seemed to be putting on an overly adult look and tone. "Well, you don't think that things like talking animals and being sucked into another world can be real, do you? Grow up, Peter. I must say that I can rather understand Lucy and Eustace still being willing to play Make-Believe at times, but I had thought you had grown beyond that."

Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. Susan had been unwilling to discuss Narnia for some time now, but he had thought she just didn't like remembering a time and place to which they could never return. She would change the subject whenever some adventure or person in Narnia was mentioned. She had shown little to no interest in Eustace's letter regarding his adventure with Jill in the Wild land's of the North.

"How can you say that, Susan?! You were a queen, the most beautiful and longed-for woman in the entire world. Wars were nearly fought to gain your hand in marriage! How could you forget all of that?"

Susan got up from her seat across from him and she no longer seemed overly casual. She looked angry. "Easily, Peter. Because it didn't happen. It couldn't have happened. It was an amazing story for when we were little, but that's all it was: a story. I'm sorry that you don't seem to realize that. I'm going to bed." She gathered up her purse and things and headed for the door.

Peter was furious. He also rose and grabbed her arm as she passed. "Why would you say such things? Is this treason then? " His voice was almost shaking with anger.

She stopped and stood dead still in his grip, not looking at him for a moment. When she spoke, it was softly and full of pain but with an undercurrent of fury. "Why? Because I am not a toy. I'm not a doll to be played with then put back on the shelf when she's no longer wanted. How can it be treason to avoid a festering wound in your heart? You, Lucy, Edmund, even the Professor, you all pick at it and pick at it with your conversations and secret meetings until. . ." She took a deep breath, no longer pretending not to know what he was talking about. "I'm sorry, Peter, but for me, it's easier if it never happened at all. Let me go on with my life and make what I can of it. You can stay in the past if you like, but please don't drag me with you."

Peter had let go of his sister's arm in shock. A festering wound? Was that what she felt when she thought about Narnia? Nothing but pain? His anger drained away and pity replaced it. How terrible to feel nothing but the loss when the best parts of one's life were mentioned! He knew how she felt. He missed Narnia with an ache that was so painful it took his breath away, but he never would have thought of denying it even existed.

"I'll make your excuses at the dinner with the Professor tomorrow then," Peter said softly, and turned to sit back down.

"Thank you," Susan said as she continued to leave the room. She had just passed out into the hallway when she turned back. "Peter. Are we still friends now that I've told you how I feel about Narnia?"

Peter looked up from his hands, which had been what he was staring at. "Susan, no matter what you say or do to me, you will always be my sister and I will always love you. This will just have to be something we must disagree on." Her words had struck him deeply and he was almost ready to cry for her pain and loss.

Susan ran back into the living room and threw her arms around Peter. "Thank you! Oh, Peter, it hurts so much. I just want to forget."

Peter held his sister's trembling form and gently soothed, "Shh, I understand. Sleep and forget, but remember, once a king or queen, always a king or queen. Your crown will be waiting when you are ready to pick it up again."

Susan wiped her teary eyes and again made to leave the room. "Good night, Peter."

"Good night," Peter replied. It wasn't until she was up the stairs and out of hearing that he added, "Queen Susan the Gentle."

TBC....

Okay, like I said up at the top, updates are going to take a bit longer than I like, but never fear, they will happen. I would also like to thank everyone who reviewed with sympathies for the death of my cousin, Justin. I should have mentioned in the dedication that he died a couple of years before I was born! I simply had the idea for a SIDS baby in the Pevensie family and wanted to name him Justin. But he is still remembered and will now live on in my story.


	11. Chapter 11: The Vision at Dinner

Hello! I'm back! The only thing I need to say before I start the story, is that I would like to emphasize Disclaimer 2. There are a lot of fanfiction authors who have done their interpretation of this scene. Please don't flame me for plagiarizing another author. There are only so many ways of interpreting the same thing. I am trying very hard not to resemble any version of this scene, but I have a feeling it will end up being similar to _somebody, somewhere. _It is not intentional! I have read many Narnian fanfictions that deal with this section of canon, but I don't intentionally copy. Great minds think alike.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter eleven: The Vision at Dinner

Susan made herself scarce all day on the 23rd, which was quite the smart idea considering the reactions of her other siblings when Peter told them that she was no longer a friend of Narnia. Lucy nearly started crying in hurt confusion, and Edmund made to leave the room in a fury to find his older sister and shake some sense into her. Peter grabbed his brother's arm to keep him in the room.

"No, Edmund," Peter said firmly. "She has made her decision. If she changes her mind it has to be on her own terms, not because we made her."

"Peter. She is not going to deny everything that all of us suffered and bled for!" Edmund nearly shouted.

Peter's voice and bearing changed. No longer a young man in an argument with his brother, this was the High King giving a command. "Edmund, enough. She will come back to us on her own, or not at all, by the Lion's will."

Whether due to the tone of command in his older brother's voice or the logic of his words, Edmund obeyed. "I may not do anything to change Susan's mind, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," he said.

"I just don't understand," Lucy said in dismay. "Why? Why would she want to deny Narnia? It was the place where she was happiest."

Peter gave a sigh. He sat down next to Lucy on the bed and put a comforting arm around her. "Not anymore. Do you remember how, after Aslan told each of us that we couldn't go back, it would hurt for a while and then become easier to bear? We could remember the times in Narnia with joy and while it would hurt to not be able to go back, we became resigned to it. Susan never got to that point. All she feels is the pain of not being able to return. I suppose that we didn't help, with all of our talking about Narnia and trying to include her even if she didn't want to join in. She has had enough. It is easier, for now at least, for her to simply live entirely in this world and not to think about Narnia at all. I hate that she feels that way, but it is her choice and we must live with it."

Lucy was crying in earnest now and Edmund looked pole-axed.

"How could we not have noticed?" Lucy wailed. "How terrible for Susan..."

Peter pulled Lucy's head to his shoulder and let her cry. The three were closeted in the boys' room after breakfast to talk. Jill and Eustace left earlier and were walking to the hotel to escort the Professor and Aunt Polly to the house and carry anything they might want to bring.

"Shush, Lucy. It is sad but there is no need to cry. Susan only feels this way now. That doesn't mean she can't remember later. Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen. She is only truly lost to us when we have lost faith in her," Peter said as he wrapped an arm around Lucy.

Lucy nodded and valiantly pulled herself together. "I'll go and wash my face then. See you downstairs?"

Peter nodded and Lucy slipped out of the room, leaving Edmund and Peter alone. Peter looked at his brother. Edmund no longer seemed angry, but serious.

"How much of this do we tell the others?" Edmund asked. "I don't think that Susan would like near-strangers like Jill and Aunt Polly knowing the real reasons behind her decision."

"We will simply say that Susan has more current interests and commitments than Narnia," Peter said slowly. He hadn't really thought about this part of Susan's revelation. "It will make her sound a bit conceited, but I'm sure that she would prefer being thought of as a snob rather than being pitied."

Edmund gave a small chuckle. "She _is_ being a bit of a snob to the rest of us. She's already brushed Lucy off several times and was almost rude to Eustace a few days ago. She's fine as long as we don't bring up Narnia."

"Well, she will have her choice respected even if we don't agree with it," Peter said, standing up. "She deserves that much at least."

* * *

With ten people in the house, counting the Professor and Polly, it was very difficult to get any time to talk with someone privately, but Peter made a point of getting Polly alone. He still didn't know if he should tell Leona about Narnia, and felt that he was desperately in need of advice.

Polly Plummer had been married for nearly thirty years, but had never had children, much to her and her husband's grief. After her husband died, she took back her old surname of Plummer, but she would never tell anyone why. Few people were brave enough to ask. Polly's seldom-released temper was the stuff of legends in every circle she encountered.

The cheery old lady willingly followed Peter into the dining room, which happened to be the only empty room in the house other than the bedrooms. They sat across from each other at the large table.

"So what did you need to talk to me about, Peter?" Polly asked.

Peter knew that Polly hated people who stammered and beat around the bush, so he stated his purpose immediately.

"Did you ever tell your husband about Narnia?" Peter said.

Polly looked surprised for a moment then smiled at Peter. "You are trying to decide whether or not to tell this girl you love about Narnia. Yes, I know about her. Your mother has told everyone she knows from England to Australia."

Peter buried his head in his hands. "Is there anyone she hasn't told yet?" he moaned. "I don't know what I'll do if things between me and Leona don't work out. Mum would likely kill me. But, yes, I desperately need advice. I hate the idea of never telling her about the most important part of my life, but I would rather never tell her than have her think that I'm insane."

"I never told James about Narnia," Polly said. "But my situation was quite a bit different from yours. I only spent a few days there, you spent over a decade. I had a wonderful adventure, but you ruled a country for years. I'm afraid that you will have to make this decision on your own."

Peter nodded. "I was afraid of that. Well, I don't have to decide tomorrow. I can wait until I'm sure of her reaction. I wouldn't want to tell her over the holidays anyway, because there is too much going on to be able to sit down and explain properly."

Polly leaned over and patted Peter's hand. "Digory and I will try to direct conversation to topics that might give you a hint. But don't worry: If she truly loves you, it won't matter either way."

* * *

"Have fun!" called Mrs. Pevensie as she and her husband headed down the drive to their evening's entertainment.

"Oh, don't worry," Peter called back from the doorway. "We will!"

It was just the Seven Friends of Narnia in the house at this point. Susan had slipped out hours before, muttering something about having agreed to babysit for a friend. Nobody had commented on her leaving, Peter having warned the other Narnians that Susan was unwilling to participate in the evening's events. The others had taken Susan's defection with sadness, but not surprise.

"She hasn't exactly been receptive to talking about Narnia lately," Eustace said practically. "She'll come to her senses eventually."

Lucy and Jill had been shut up in the kitchen for hours. Their menu plans had been upset by the belated realization that some of the herbs and foods needed for the recipes they had been hoping to use were only found in Narnia or were so rare in England as to be impossible to get. Between that complication and the fact that the traditional foods of game birds, venison and wild boar were utterly unavailable due to rationing and the difficulty of finding fresh foods in the city, the girls' plans had been turned upside down.

Peter had found Jill leaning against the kitchen wall earlier in the day, frustrated beyond words with the destruction of her and Lucy's plans for a grand Narnian feast. Her frustration seemed to have cured her of her shyness around Peter though, since she burst out, "I really thought we could do it! I thought we could make a true Narnian dinner, but it's impossible."

Peter had smiled at her outburst. "Remember, Jill, it's not the food that makes a dinner Narnian, but the people who eat it." He then took her back into the kitchen and started helping to adjust the menu. Instead of game bird, they had several (slightly scrawny) chickens, roasted and basted to perfection. The bread was left uncut, as was the cheese. The girls had been able to get squash and vegetables that were found in both worlds and had done several basic dishes with them.

"Good thing that Jill only knows plain cooking," Lucy told Peter in an undertone. "Plain stuff is easy to get, even with the rationing. Heaven knows we would never be able to find half of the things that make up some of the fancier dishes that I know how to cook." Lucy had always enjoyed helping in the kitchens of Cair Paravel and had made many a culinary masterpiece in her time as queen. But she was used to making complicated foods with exotic ingredients, so Jill's knowledge of the basic travel food was a lifesaver.

The last dish had been taken from the oven, the table was set, and everything was prepared. There were some slight arguments about seating, with the Professor trying to convince Peter that the head of the table was his right as High King.

"No, Professor," Peter responded firmly, yet politely. "You had the honor of being there at Narnia's beginning. I am more than happy at your right hand."

Eustace gave the pair of them an amused look as he passed by with a bowl of vegetables. "You do remember that the table is round, don't you, Peter?"

Even though the table was indeed round, Peter did sit at the Professor's right hand. Aunt Polly sat opposite the Professor, with Edmund on her right. Lucy was in between the Professor and Edmund with Jill and Eustace on either side of her. There was an empty space where Susan would have sat. Peter said that even if she was not willing to continue believing in Narnia, that did not mean that Narnia would have to stop believing in her.

The Professor had brought two bottles of wine with him and each person had a filled cup, with the younger folk having it well watered down. Eustace looked almost ready to protest his being treated like a child and not being given the full goblets that the older men had, but Jill kicked him under the table and he subsided.

Peter stood and everyone could see that he had fully become the High King again. Lucy felt that all she had to do was to close her eyes and they would be back at Cair Paravel, with Peter opening a feast with the customary speech.

"Friends of Narnia, be welcome." Peter said falling back into the speech patterns that he had used in Narnia. "Before we start eating, I would like you to raise your glasses in a toast to the land that all of us call home, and to which we all dream of returning, someday."

Everyone stood and raised their glasses. "To Narnia!"said Peter.

"To Narnia!" rang the chorus from the others, then silence as the goblets were raised to lips.

Peter seemed surprised when Ed also stood, but a look at his brother's face told him what King Edmund meant to do. He gave a small nod and let his brother take the floor.

"I don't know if this tradition was still alive when you others were in Narnia, but in our time we would face east to Aslan's country and spend a moment in quiet reflection before each feast or meal," Edmund said, sounding nothing like the barely grown man England knew him as. Solemnly, they all rose and faced the eastern wall.

Peter let the memories of home surround him and a pang of bittersweet longing filled his heart with the familiar action. A moment of silence passed and they settled back into chairs and started reaching for food.

Plates were filled and at first the only conversation revolved around food and the obtaining of it. Many compliments were given to Lucy and Jill for their efforts in the kitchen.

"I would like to thank you, Aunt Polly," Peter said. "If it wasn't for you, none of us younger lot would have ever got into Narnia in the first place!"

Polly gave Peter a smile and a nod. She knew what Peter was talking about. Jill and Eustace looked at each other in confusion. Edmund saw this, and hurried to explain.

"Aunt Polly knew our mum for years before any of us kids were born. She used to babysit Peter, Susan, Lucy and me whenever Mum and Dad wanted to go out. When the evacuations started she wrote to the Professor." Edmund nodded politely at the older man. "Because it was his old friend requesting it, he agreed to take four city children in for the summer. So you see, if Aunt Polly hadn't connected us all, none of us younger people would have ever known Narnia existed."

The Professor raised his glass. "To Polly, for bringing us all to that amazing land."

As the plates started to empty, the real talk began. Each person would tell a story or ask, "Do you remember when..." and each story would lead to another. Peter asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he had come back from Narnia for the first time. It had never been answered and quite likely never could, but that didn't make the debates over it any less entertaining. "Do you think we are the only ones to have gone to Narnia?"

Usually this question prompted responses ranging from belief that they were alone, to the idea that there were many others out in the world who had similar adventures. This time was different.

Eustace spoke up before anyone else. "Highly unlikely. I'm surprised that Lucy and Edmund didn't tell you already, but they must have forgotten. When we were on the Dawn Treader with Caspian, he told us that he had researched that very question carefully. He said that he had gone over all the old records, asked the Old Narnians about the legends and even went through the king of Archenland's records. The only people who had ever came to Narnia from our world and came back again are sitting in this room. Apart from Susan and someone called Andrew, of course."

Peter felt a little disappointment run through him at his cousin's words. He had secretly been hoping that Leona might have been to Narnia and was just better at hiding it than he was. But if what Eustace said was true, it seemed like sharing a Narnian adventure with Leona was impossible. The only way that she could have gone to Narnia was if it happened after Jill and Eustace got back from their last adventure. Peter thought that unlikely. If Leona was truly his age, Aslan would most definitely have considered her to be 'too old'.

Peter didn't know exactly how old Leona was. She had told him that her birthday was "seventeen days before yours" but when he asked how old she was she simply laughed and said that Peter was a cad for asking a lady's age and that she would never tell. Peter hadn't cared at the time and figured that he would find out eventually. She looked to be his age, or at most, a year younger.

"I remember now," Edmund said. "We had that conversation the same morning that we landed on the Lone Islands. I suppose it just got wiped clean out of my mind by everything else that happened that day."

"What about the people that got to stay?" Jill asked. "How many of those were there?"

"I know that King Frank and Queen Helen were from our world, and stayed to found the linage of the Narnian and Archenlander royalty," Aunt Polly said. "I don't know of any others."

Lucy spoke up. "There was a group of about a hundred bandits that showed up in the middle of the Calormen desert about three hundred years after Narnia began and joined with Archenlander outlaws to form Calormen. They are the reason that Calormen is so much more populated than Narnia or Archenland. They had a larger group to start with. Then there were the Telmarines, another group that came into that world by accident. They eventually conquered Narnia after Aslan sent us first four back through the wardrobe. There had been rumors of small families that have stumbled into that world and just quietly made their homes there, but they never did anything of importance. Not like the things Aslan called for us to do."

"It seems unfair that the ones who stumble in and stay are all horrible," Jill said. "One would think that we would get an equal share of good and bad."

"Not really," Edmund told her. "A place in our world that has a reputation for people going in and never coming back would likely be thought of as haunted, and the only people who would go there would be the ones with nothing to lose."

Suddenly Jill, Lucy and Eustace jumped to their feet in fright. Jill even gave a small scream. The wineglass at the Professor's hand fell to the floor with a tinkle of breaking glass. It took battle hardened reflexes for Peter to control his reaction and not to move at the sight that was before them.

A man, a bit older than Peter himself, was standing in midair in the room in the empty space where Susan's chair would have been. He was dressed in what was most definitely Narnian clothing, but Peter could see ropes tying his arms to his sides, and the man's lip was split. He was obviously a captive of some sort. They could almost see past him, as though looking through thin cloth, a dark forest that seemed eerily familiar.

Knowing that it was his place as High King to try to communicate with the vision, Peter clenched his hand and spoke.

"Speak, if you're not a phantom or a dream. You have a Narnian look about you and we are the seven friends of Narnia."

The vision made no reply that was audible, but his lips moved and Peter could tell that the man was trying desperately to respond to Peter's order. It seemed that a more powerful command would be needed. Heart pounding, Peter rose gracefully to his feet, and all those present could feel the power and majesty that surrounded him like a royal robe. Looking the vision full in the eyes, Peter spoke in a tone of command, using words that no true Narnian would be able to deny.

"Shadow or spirit or whatever you are, if you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King."

However, far from conveying whatever message was required, the vision started to fade. There were cries from around the table of "It's vanishing, it's fading away!" Peter stayed silent. As the last of the vision cleared away and the room was normal once again, Peter heard, or was it felt, something. Too faint to tell if it was a memory or a call, like an echo on the wind, a lion's roar rang through the High King's mind.

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter: We are now in the canon part of The Last Battle. Just as a warning, I will be making changes to canon, but not enough to make it a true AU, mostly just length of time and a couple of event switches. If you haven't read The Last Battle yet, you might want to consider it. While I will be recapping events, I will not be mentioning all of them and will be assuming that my readers have read the book. Please don't be offended by this, but if I have to tell the canon story as well as my own, it will take forever.


	12. Chapter 12: Temptation

I had a couple of people hint in reviews that they were not familiar with the story of The Last Battle. Please don't be too surprised if you get very confused until the end of the story when I let Peter in on what happens. If it makes you feel any better, you know as much as Peter does!

Apologies to any lawyers out there, but I had to kinda fudge on the law a bit as I couldn't understand what little information I found on property laws in England in the 1950s. Please don't think that my take on property law is at all correct and go digging in people's yards!

Oh, and just so you know, this chapter is kinda angsty!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter twelve: Temptation

As the strange vision disappeared, there were cries from around the table of, "It's vanishing, it's fading away!" followed by a short period of rather stunned silence as the room returned to normal. Everyone looked at one another truly not knowing what to say.

Eustace turned to the Professor, a slight quivering in his voice as he said, "Good instincts, sir. I wonder if that still would have happened if we hadn't all been together?"

"I don't know, Eustace," the Professor replied, shaken. He may have had a feeling that something might happen, but he didn't truly think that it would, and not like this. "I don't think we will ever know."

"Well," said Jill. "Now what do we do? There is most definitely something going on in Narnia, and we are obviously needed."

"Maybe Aslan will summon one of us?" wondered Lucy. "He is the only way we ever got into Narnia."

Eustace piped up, "When Jill and I went into Narnia the last time, we had called to Aslan to help us and take us away. He said later that we would not have called to him if he hadn't been calling to us. Maybe we should try that."

Peter spoke up for the first time. "Has Aslan forbidden you to come back to Narnia, Jill, Eustace?"

"No," Jill replied. "He didn't say anything about whether we could come back or not."

"Then you two should try and call to him," Peter said, then, indicating the others, continued, "He has already told us that he would not be bringing us back to Narnia again. It would do no good for us older ones to try."

Edmund and Lucy looked ready to protest, but before they could Jill and Eustace grabbed another's hand, held their free hands out, palm up, closed their eyes and called, "Aslan! Aslan! Aslan!" Everyone waited with baited breath for something to happen.

The room stayed the same. Neither Jill nor Eustace so much as twitched. They started to feel rather silly. It was three minutes of silent waiting before Polly commented, "I don't think that is going to work. If Aslan wanted you in Narnia he would do something about it. Calling and wishing isn't going to help."

"Well, we have to do something!" Lucy cried. "We can't just sit here like bumps on a log! Narnia needs our help!"

"I'm just as worried as you are, Lucy, but the only way into Narnia is through Aslan," Peter said. "If He isn't going to bring one of us there Himself I don't know what we can do."

"There is another way." It was the Professor, and he spoke slowly and hesitantly. The room stilled. "The rings."

Polly looked at her old friend. "The ones we used to get into Narnia in the first place?" She was referring to two sets of magic rings that Digory's awful Uncle Andrew had made many years ago, and had then tricked her into wearing as an experiment. Putting on one ring would take you to the Wood Between the Worlds, a strange wood with many pools. Each pool was a portal to another world. It was by putting on the other ring and jumping into a pool that you could get into another world or back into your own.

The Professor nodded. "The only problem is that I don't have them anymore. I buried them in the garden of that old house in London, before it got sold."

"You mean to say that there is a way to get into Narnia without waiting for Aslan to call us?" Lucy asked slowly, hope building in her eyes.

Peter felt the same hope building in his heart. Oh, to be able to go back to Narnia, if only for a little while! To see the land, to stay in Cair Paravel again, it was almost more than he had ever hoped for. He knew from hearing the Professor and Polly tell their tale that anyone touching the person with the ring on would be able to follow. He could even take Leona with them. It was a way around Aslan's edict. He could almost smell the fresh air of home!

The others were talking excitedly about who would go, and whether the rings could be used to make visits to Narnia, since there were only two sets. Perhaps if they all held onto one another? Why hadn't they thought of this before?!?

Suddenly, Peter's hopeful thoughts came to a grinding halt. _A way around Aslan's edict!? _What was he thinking! He had been told that he was not to come to Narnia anymore. It had been a command, not a challenge to find a way to come without permission! Peter felt sick with shame. Life in England was his test of faith, and no sooner had a trial come up than he nearly failed. But the temptation was so strong! To see Narnia just one last time! To simply be home for even a moment. Surely it couldn't hurt to try? Perhaps Aslan wouldn't mind too terribly? Peter shook his head vigorously to try and shake the temptation to disobey Aslan out of his mind. His hands clenched as he fought his heart's desire into submission. Around him the increasingly hopeful conversations were continuing.

"Quiet!" Peter called, and the room stilled. Everyone looked to him. Peter took a deep breath.

"Jill and Eustace will go. They will take the rings, if we can get them, go back to Narnia and do whatever needs be done. The rest of us will stay here." Peter looked at Jill and Eustace in turn who nodded solemnly back at him.

"But, Peter," Lucy said quietly. "Don't you want to go back as much as any of the rest of us? We could go home."

Peter met his sister's eyes, and Lucy wished with all her heart that she could have taken back her last question. Peter's eyes were filled with a longing so deep that it nearly took her breath away. She knew that if he could, he would have taken the rings and have been back in Narnia faster than anything. She didn't understand why he would pass up this chance.

"We have been told that we are not to go back to Narnia," Peter responded slowly, and everyone could hear the bittersweet pain in his voice. "Shame on us for talking about disobeying the one being to whom we all owe so much! And what would be the point? Do you think that any machinations of ours could bring us one step closer to Narnia if Aslan did not wish it? Shame on us for thinking of defying him at all. No, Jill and Eustace will go."

Lucy was in tears now; Edmund was white to the lips. He had always been more sensitive to the idea of disobedience and treachery then the others. Peter hated causing his beloved siblings pain, but there was no other way. His own heart was bleeding and he understood more than ever how Susan felt when she called being locked away from Narnia a 'festering wound'. The temptation was so strong, the longing almost overpowering, but now that he had spoken out loud and given the commands, it was easier. He had passed his test. If only it didn't hurt so much to say, "No."

Digory cleared his throat. "Well, now that it is settled who will go to Narnia, we had better find a way of getting there. I buried the rings in a box in the garden of my uncle and aunt's old London house. That wouldn't be a problem except that the house has been sold, several times in fact, since then."

Jill spoke up. "Couldn't we just knock on the door, tell whoever lives there that you mistakenly left something buried in the garden when you moved out and see if they will let us in?"

"We could try," the Professor told her. "But if the rings were on the grounds when they bought the house, whoever owns the house would own the rings. That is the law. The only way I can see us getting the rings is buying them or. . ." He looked uncomfortable as he finished, "Stealing them."

"It wouldn't necessarily be stealing," Edmund put in. "If the rings were left by accident, the law gets more subject to interpretation. And if you buried them near the edge of the property it could be close enough to the street to count as public property. It would be easiest to just go in, get the rings and get out before anyone notices. If the idea that we are stealing bothers anyone, we could leave some money in the box and just take the rings."

"You would know, Ed," Peter said. "Looks like becoming a lawyer is a good plan for you." Edmund was in his freshman year of law school, and was hoping to become a lawyer and, eventually, a judge.

"I still think that we should ask whoever owns the house if they will let us get the rings," Lucy said. She hated the idea of stealing.

"They would want to know what was so important that we would come looking for it decades later," Edmund said. "They would assume that the rings are valuable and wouldn't want to give them up. And what if they took them to a jeweler, or tried them on themselves? The Professor buried them to keep them out of innocent people's hands. Even when you know how to use them they truly aren't very safe."

"I suppose that's true," Lucy agreed. "But that doesn't mean I like it."

"So all of us are agreed that we can't risk letting the house's owners know what we want or even that we are there," Peter said. No one gave any further protests, though Lucy still looked apprehensive.

"We don't want to go in the dark, someone will think we are out to rob the house," Peter said. "It would be best if we got in during the daytime, and looked like we were there to do something with the plumbing or something."

"I have a friend who is a workman," Edmund broke in. "I can get him to lend us some of his uniforms, but he'll be busy with the holidays and I don't think I'd be able to contact him until after Christmas."

"That shouldn't be a difficulty," Aunt Polly told him. "We can't just go haring off at any rate. Much as I hate to say it, I doubt that we will be able to get Jill and Eustace to Narnia until after New Years. This _must_ be kept under wraps. There would be more questions than we would know what to do with if any of us just up and left the day before Christmas. Besides, Peter has Leona coming tomorrow. Narnia is important but so is she."

Peter nodded. "Aunt Polly's right. Narnia will have to fend for herself for a couple of days. We don't have any other choice. Now let's get this charted out. Eustace, you and Jill go back to school on January third, correct?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he replied, and then muttered under his breath. "Ruddy Experiment House, not even giving us a proper size Christmas holiday."

Peter looked at Polly and Digory. "You two were planning on leaving the 3rd as well, since there isn't much point in staying if we all are going to be splitting up anyway." They nodded.

"Alright," Peter said, thinking things through. "Here's what we'll do. Edmund and I will go up to the London house on the 2nd, and get the rings. We'll send a wire or we'll call to let you know we have them. Then we will meet Jill and Eustace at the connecting train station, and give them the rings. They will use them, do what needs to be done in Narnia, and let us all know as soon as you can what had happened. Aunt Polly, you and the Professor need to think back as hard as you can. You will need to be able to tell Jill and Eustace exactly which pool is Narnia. I don't want them to have to experiment to find the right one. Lucy, I'm sorry but there really isn't a part for you to play yet other than keeping Mum and Dad out of our hair. I'd invite you along with Ed and me, but it would just look odd for a girl to be with two workman."

Lucy made a face. "Much as I hate to say it, you're right. I'll ride with Jill and Eustace," she said. "We should stay together as long as possible and it would be horrid to sit at home all alone, not knowing what was going on."

"We will travel with you three as well," Digory said. "We would be taking the early train home at any rate, so we might as well stick together."

Peter gave a satisfied nod. "It's settled then. The only thing that we need to do is for Edmund to contact his friend and get the uniforms. Other than that, we need to enjoy the holidays and act as normal as possible. Or as normal as usual as the case may be!"

A spark of excitement ran around the table. The adventure was beginning.

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter: Sorry this is shortish, but there really wasn't any better place to stop. If it cheers you up, Leona is coming in the next chapter, which should be out in a week or so! Make sure to review and give me your opinion and theories. Letting me know what you think is going to happen or asking questions lets me know what to put in the story. I can't give answers if I don't know the questions! Even if your theory's are wrong, it lets me know what hints I may have dropped that have been misinterpreted, and what hints I need to drop in the future. It really helps me tie the story together. So hit that little review button and let me know were you think the story is going!


	13. Chapter 13: Songs and Tears

Hello all! I'm back and so is Leona, so all you Leona fans can rejoice. The first part of this chapter is very fluffy in places, almost sappily romantic, and the only way I can see it happening is because Peter is very old-fashioned in his courting and knows the kind of flowery court language that makes a girl's heart go thump-thump. Please let me know if it was too over the top. The last part is pretty angsty, but yet again, let me know if it was overdone.

By the way, the song that I'm having Peter sing is "Culhwch and Olwen" by Heather Dale.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter thirteen: Songs and Tears

Peter was standing inside the Finchley train station late Christmas Eve morning, eagerly awaiting Leona's train. She had been on his mind all morning, and the memories of the night before had been fighting the anticipation her arrival inspired. Narnia, Leona, Narnia, Leona. Both subjects had been swirling around in Peter's head all day, depending on the company he was in at the time. The presence of any of the Narnians brought his mind back to the events of the previous night, and excited looks would shoot between the conspirators. Talking to his mum, dad or Susan would bring his mind to Leona and the impressions that she would make on his family, and that his family would make on her. He had never felt so nervous in his life, except before a battle, although the jitters were very similar in intensity. A battle would decide his fate and the fates of others around him. Leona's presence affected his life as well, though at least with her he was in far prettier company. He would much prefer the sight of Leona's smile to the visions of dying men all around him. Not necessarily safer company. She had already shown that, like Peter, she had a knack for unintentionally attracting trouble, but her company was well worth any hazards that might arise.

The sound of the train whistle brought Peter's thoughts back to the present and he looked around the crowd of passengers for Leona. He spotted her trying to carry a suitcase and a large cardboard box, and hurried over to help her.

Peter took the box from the struggling woman and she gave him a grateful smile. She looked wane, tired and more disheartened than usual. He set the box on the ground and gave her a hug in greeting. She returned it with surprising intensity.

"I've missed you," Peter said. "I know it's been less than a week since I've seen you last, but I still missed you."

She gave a little laugh. "I missed you too, Peter. More than I thought I would."

They broke apart and Peter looked down at her. "You look a little tired. Are you alright?"

"I'm just tired. It's been a stressful couple of days," she said.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"I'll tell you later," she said. "It's nothing overly important."

Taking her at her word, and understanding that the middle of the train station was hardly the appropriate place for a conversation, Peter picked the box back up and led her to the car. The box was large but not too heavy, and Peter could carry it easily.

"What in heaven's name is in here?" he asked Leona, giving the box an experimental shake.

"Presents, and you needn't bother peeking, I've already wrapped them," she said.

Peter mock pouted at her. "Spoil sport. Where is the fun in finding out what you got me if you make it so difficult? I hope it's worth the curiosity!"

Realizing that his teasing may have sounded rude he backtracked a little and gave Leona a gentle smile. "In all truthfulness, Leona, as long as it's from you, I won't care what my present is. I know I'll love it."

She gave him a smile back and Peter was grateful to see her face light up again. He hated seeing her sad, and reminded himself to ask her what she had been doing over the last few days that would put such shadows in her hazel eyes.

"I'm fairly certain you'll like it," she said.

Peter gave in to the urge to tease her again and said, "Of course, if it's dirty socks or a moldy banana..."

Leona started laughing merrily and Peter relaxed, knowing that whatever the trouble it was not something urgent.

"... I can't guarantee that I'll keep it on my person at all times!"

She was still laughing but hastened to reassure him. "Well, I can promise that it's not socks or anything moldy! You really should like it. But, no more questions! You'll find out tomorrow."

Peter loaded Leona's suitcase and box into the car, and opened the door for her. It was nearly lunchtime and he planned on taking her to lunch before all the eateries closed. He had originally thought that he would take her straight home, but he felt that he had better have a bit of private time with her to warn her about his family and what she might expect to happen during the holidays.

Peter gave Leona a small briefing over soup and a sandwich. She seemed to get more and more nervous as the time passed. She gave a small sigh of relief when Peter told her that she wouldn't need to worry about being pressured for information that she wasn't willing to give.

"I don't want to offend anyone, but..." She trailed off, looking apologetic but firm. "There are some things that I can't tell anyone about."

"Don't worry," Peter said. "They have all been warned. No one will push you to say anything you don't want to."

They finished their meal and got back into the car for the ride to the Pevensie home. Leona looked more and more pale and quiet the closer they got. By the time Peter pulled the car into the driveway, she looked almost sick.

Before they got out of the car Peter leaned over and took her hand. "Hey, don't worry so much. They are just regular people."

"Yes, but they're YOUR people!" she said, in a tone that was half whisper, half wail.

Peter leaned closer and gave her a quick kiss, shocking her out of her nervous introspection. "Relax," he said.

She visibly lost some of the tension that was holding her stiff in her seat. "I just want them to like me," she said with a little smile. "I never planned on falling in love, but if I'm going to do a thing, I'm going to do it right."

Peter grinned and gave her another, more lingering kiss. "Don't fret. Unless you plan on murdering someone, they will love you almost as much as I do."

She gave a small chuckle but no other response.

"Chin up," Peter said. "We will brave the dangers together!"

She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that sounded like, "Show off," then got out of the car and grabbed her suitcase. Peter took up the box.

Opening the kitchen door, Peter heard the sounds of music and singing coming from the living room. Surprisingly there was no one in the kitchen and their arrival had gone unnoticed. Peter put the box down on the kitchen table and quietly asked Leona, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "Do you want to make an entrance?"

He took her hand and pulled her to the door to the living room. He could see Susan at the piano and all the rest of his family and friends sitting around the room, giving a hearty rendition of _Deck the Halls_. As he entered the room he joined in on the last verse and Leona joined in as well. Heads turned and everyone rose to their feet in a hullabaloo of welcome and introductions. Lucy embraced Leona like a long lost sister, and when Peter introduced Leona to Edmund, his brother gave a courtly bow and kissed her hand as she curtsied back. Mildly irked, Peter reclaimed Leona's hand and frowned at his grinning brother. "You behave. She's already claimed." Peter put a possessive arm around Leona's waist.

Looking down at her, he said, only partially teasing, "Should I be insanely jealous?"

She grinned mischievously up at him. "Only if you can't best his efforts!"

Peter pulled back in astonishment at the challenge in her tone and words. He hadn't planned on being quite_ this _demonstrative in front of his family, but if she was going to dare him! He grabbed her around the waist, dipped her down until all of her weight was on his arms and he was the only thing keeping her from falling and kissed her square on the lips. She had made a rather undignified squawk when he grabbed her and she looked decidedly flustered and flushed when he pulled her upright again. She gave his arm a smack, but couldn't seem to think of anything to say.

Peter gave her a purely masculine smirk and continued introducing the rest of the room as though nothing had happened. He noticed Eustace in the corner looked slightly repulsed, his mum looking like every holiday on the calendar had come early, and Edmund was smirking ear to ear. The little snot had provoked Peter on purpose! Peter reminded himself to smack his brother around the head as soon as he got the chance.

Everyone sat back down and Susan started playing the piano again. Edmund pulled out his guitar and started strumming along.

Helen Pevensie told Peter, "We started late, Peter dear. You didn't miss much."

Leona gave Peter a quizzical look.

"Every Christmas Eve is the same here," he told her quietly. "After lunch we all sit down and sing Christmas carols and talk, sometimes play games. Then we'll have an early supper together. After that, some of us will go to parties, or just do things around the house. We tend to go to bed or at least quiet down by about 9:00 or 10:00 p.m., since the younger ones always wanted to get up early to open presents. They don't get us up early anymore, but we still are downstairs by at least 9 on Christmas morning."

Leona only had time to give Peter an understanding nod before everyone started in on _Winter Wonderland_. Peter noticed that she didn't seem to know that song, but hummed along once she got the tune. Most of the older songs she did know, however, and she sang along rather shyly with Peter and the others. She seemed to know slightly different versions of some songs and Peter wondered if that was why she was singing so softly. He had heard her sing before. She had mentioned long ago that she loved to sing and he had begged her for a song. She had complied with a beautiful French ballad. Neither of them understood a word that she had sung, but they both enjoyed it nonetheless.

When it was getting close to time to start fixing supper, Lucy came over to Peter and sat down at his feet.

"Peter," she pleaded, looking up at him sweetly. Peter looked back, suspiciously. Lucy never looked that cute unless she wanted something. "Would you sing a song for me? The one that you learned when we were in the country."

"When we were in the country" was usually code for "when we were in Narnia" but this time Peter knew that it was both. On the third day that the Pevensie children had spent in Professor Kirke's mansion, they had overheard two of the maids singing a ballad about an old Arthurian legend, that of Culhwch and Olwen. It told of one of Arthur's knights and his quest to find a missing lord and thus win the hand of a beautiful woman. Peter had loved it, and after some pleading the maids had taught it to the children. After they had entered the wardrobe and conquered the White Witch, they had taught it in turn to the Narnians. It had become quite popular there due to the fact that Culhwch took counsel from several talking animals on his quest, and the story easily fitted the land of Narnia.

Peter had always sung it as a duet with Susan, which was how he had learned it, but the song could be sung by one person. He smiled down at Lucy and looked up for Susan to see if she was also willing. _Apparently not... _he thought as he saw Susan slip out of the room. Jill had been sitting next to the door, and Susan had whispered something to her as she passed.

Jill spoke up as Peter caught her eye. "Oh, she'll be back in a few minutes, she just needed to do something. She said for you to go on without her."

Peter gave a little sigh. He had thought that since _Culhwch and Olwen_ was originally an English song, Susan would be willing to sing it with him, but apparently its connection to Narnia made her wary. Lucy looked crestfallen, and Peter decided to try and sing it without Susan. He turned to Edmund, who nodded and started tuning his guitar in hopes of remembering the chords.

Lucy had asked Peter to sing that particular song in hopes that Susan would sing it with him. She wanted to get Susan to at least start trying to acknowledge Narnia, and since the song was English, Lucy felt that Susan shouldn't have an excuse. She looked up at her brother sadly, the joy gone out of her request. She could see him square his shoulders and decide to go on without Susan. She gave him a brave smile back and knew that he would sing anyways.

One of the few things that would stop all activity in the Great Hall in Cair Paravel no matter the time or other activities was an announcement that the High King would sing. Peter rarely sang for anyone other than his siblings, he was very self-conscience about his voice, mostly for the effect it had on anyone who heard it. Peter had a deep, rich singing voice that made love songs bring tears to his listeners eyes and made ballads come to life. If Peter had ever decided to, he could have become a bard in a heartbeat. But he always felt uncomfortable with the praise and accolades that came his way when he would sing in public, so he rarely did. Lucy was one of the few people who could get him to sing, and it usually took quite a bit of begging and pleading even from her.

With Edmund finally having remembered the chords for the song, Peter started to sing. _Culhwch and Olwen _was a bright cheerful tune that always brought a smile to Lucy's face when Peter would sing it. He met Lucy's eyes as he sang the first verse solo, but he started to falter as he reached the part where the song split into two voices. Usually this was where Susan would start singing along. After listening to Peter struggle with trying to carry the song alone for a few notes, Lucy opened her mouth to try and sing Susan's part when someone else beat her to it.

Leona sat down on the floor next to Lucy at Peter's feet and sang along with him. She looked lovely and her voice was no longer quiet and uncertain, but strong and beautiful and a perfect match for Peter's. What Lucy truly noticed however, was her brother. When his head had whipped around to see who was singing with him, his face lit up. There was new energy to his song, and as Leona settled herself at his feet Lucy could tell that Peter was no longer singing to his sister. For the two singers there suddenly was nothing in the world other than each other and the song.

Everyone in the room looked on in wonder. Peter almost shone with delight, majesty, and love for the woman at his feet. Leona's face reflected those same qualities back and the only thing that would come close to breaking the spell between them was when they would make some mistake in the song. Yet again, Leona knew a slightly different version than Peter. When they would occasionally sing a different word or note, there would be a little laughter from the both of them before they would catch up to Edmund's accompaniment.

Lucy's heart filled with happiness. She had never seen Peter look so joyful. Narnia brought out the best in Peter, just like it did everyone else, but even when in Narnia it was rare for Peter to ever truly relax and live only in the moment. No matter how happy he was there, she could always see him keeping in the back of his mind that he was a King and needed to act like one. He never seemed to completely forget the responsibilities that his status required. In England he was coping, but never as content as he had been in Narnia. She supposed that it was the knowledge that England could never live up to the expectations that Narnia had given him. For this moment, this Christmas Eve, however, England didn't seem to hold any disappointments. His heart was in his eyes as his voice swelled and blended with Leona's. He had not stopped smiling since she had started to sing with him.

As the song ended, Peter and Leona both started laughing in delight as the others all started to applaud.

"I haven't sung that song in years!" Leona said, breathless and smiling.

"Me either," Peter replied. "Where did you learn your version?"

"Oh, I don't even remember, it's been so long ago!" Leona laughed.

Lucy impulsively gave Leona a quick hug. "You have a lovely voice. Have you ever thought of becoming a singer?"

Leona laughed. "Oh, I've sung for my supper many a time, but I find that a regular job is a bit more reliable source of income!"

Helen got to her feet and announced, "Well, on that lovely note, I think it's time to start cooking supper. William and I both have a party tonight and I think that Susan does, too."

Peter gave Leona his hands and helped her to her feet. "We should sing together more often. Our voices match very well."

"Our voices aren't the only things that match," Leona replied, still grinning. "But I'll add it to the list!"

Dinner was a noisy affair with everyone talking and laughing. Peter was surprised that his mother hadn't immediately started questioning Leona, but he guessed that she wanted to wait until Leona was more comfortable around them before trying to pick her apart like a puzzle. For her part, Leona was surprisingly quiet and took part in the conversations only when someone asked her something. Peter found this a little odd since she usually was so vibrant and friendly. Every so often he could catch a glimpse of something like longing or sadness in her eyes, and then she would blink and be back to normal for a while until it happened again.

After dinner Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie left for their party, Susan left for hers. Polly and Digory went back to the hotel and those remaining at home headed back to the living room to play games. After a few hours of cards the others all went their separate ways, leaving Peter and Leona alone in the living room.

Peter settled on the couch and Leona cuddled in next to him. It was nearing eleven o'clock and Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had returned home and gone to bed almost an hour ago. Before retiring, they had asked Peter and Leona if they would wait up for Susan to come home. They had been sitting and talking quietly when Peter decided that he would go ahead and ask her what had happened while they were apart.

"Leona," he asked. "What happened while I was here? I know something did, because you mentioned having to do some things over the holidays and you seem so much sadder than you ever have before."

Susan slipped into the kitchen quietly and made as little noise as possible. She had come home much later than she had planned and she knew that everyone should be asleep by now. She had gotten to the hallway and sat down to take her coat and shoes off, when she heard voices from the living room. She knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she did it anyway. She heard Peter asking Leona what she had been doing for the last couple of days.

"Oh, nothing much," Susan heard Leona reply, in a far too casual tone. "I had to make a trip to Canterbury, and get a few other odds and ends done..."

"That wouldn't have made you this sad, Leona," Peter said firmly. "Tell me, what is wrong?"

There was silence for a short while, and Susan thought that Leona wasn't going to answer.

"My family died on the December 22, what feels like centuries ago." Leona's voice was tremulous and Susan sucked in a breath. Peter had never told them that Leona had no family. She felt ashamed for listening in on a very private conversation, but leaned closer nonetheless.

"It just hit me harder this year, and it took a few days for me to get back to normal," Leona said slowly, and Peter was almost surprised that she continued explaining. "If I can, I try to spend the day remembering them and keeping their memory alive. But sometimes it feels like I'm picking a wound just to keep it open. I'm afraid that if _I_ don't remember them, there isn't anyone who will! I can't decide which is worse; the years that I forget it completely and just go on with my life, or the years that I spend the entire time franticly trying to remember their faces! I either feel guilty for forgetting them, or sad because I remember!" Her voice was filled with confusion and dismay.

Peter held her tightly to him and guided her head to his shoulder. "Why did you do this alone? You should have told me and I would have stayed with you. Did you not trust me to help you grieve? I thought we were closer than that."

Peter was upset that she had not told him about this sooner. The idea of her sitting in her apartment weeping over the family that she had lost, without anyone to comfort her nearly broke his heart. He looked down at her face, and his anger washed away. She looked startled at his vehemence and he quickly realized that she simply hadn't thought of it. She had been alone for so long that it just never occurred to her that someone else might be willing to share her burden. Peter realized all of a sudden how very difficult it would be to teach Leona how to love again, how to rely on others again.

"I...I just didn't think of it," she said softly, confirming Peter's belief.

"I do admire you though," Peter said. "I don't know how you manage to go on with your life alone without breaking. I start sweating just thinking of losing any one of my family. It's the one thing that truly frightens me."

"It isn't easy," she said. "At first I felt like the world was crashing down on me. Everything and everybody was gone. The fire destroyed everything. I kept feeling worse and worse as people would come up and offer their condolences to my face and talk in pitying whispers behind my back. My spirit did break for a while. I wanted to run, to hide, to find a cave somewhere and curl up and die just so I wouldn't be alone. I felt lost because I was the only one left, but then, at the very end, when I thought I couldn't do it, I couldn't live without them, I realized something. There _had_ to be a reason that I had lived. There had to be some reason, some mission I had to complete, something in life that I still had to do. The pain became easier to bear. I would be sad, but still feel grateful that I was alive.

"After that I started to heal. I made friends. I went on with my life. Then I started to forget, and that frightened me. If I don't make myself remember, I don't remember at all! It is only the anniversaries that are difficult. The horrible part is that sometimes I can't even remember their faces." She suddenly looked up at Peter's face.

"What does that make me, Peter? What kind of a terrible person am I, that I'm forgetting my own family?" Her voice turned desperate. "I can't even remember what my own mother looked like! This is why I feel so much worse when I forget the anniversary. I feel like they are truly gone, as though they never existed." Tears started slipping down her pale cheeks and Peter gathered her even more tightly to his side.

"You are not a terrible person; you're simply trying to heal." Peter had to fight past the lump in his throat to reassure her. "Do you truly think they would be happy that you cling to their memory when it causes you such pain? Let them go. It isn't healthy for you to make yourself grieve like this. You will never truly forget them, and it will never be as though they didn't exist because you live on. You will live your life and you will see their faces in your children and your children's children. You will tell them, 'You have your auntie's nose, and your uncle's ears.' They lived their lives, however short they were. Now you must live yours. Cry for them if you must, but never think that you could truly forget them."

She was sobbing in Peter's lap now, clinging to his shirt, and he could feel tears running down his own cheeks, but he made himself continue. "You aren't alone anymore, and next year on the anniversary, if you feel like you still wish to have a day of remembrance, I swear to you I will not leave your side. You will never have to face anything alone as long as I am there to share it with you. But, you have to let me. I can't help you if you push me away."

She looked up and the pain in her face took his breath away. "I want to, Peter," she whispered, "but, I'm so scared. Have you ever looked at something you wanted so desperately that it hurt, but didn't dare reach for it, for fear that it wouldn't be everything it promised?"

Peter closed his eyes as the images of Aslan and Cair Paravel forced their way into his mind. His heart clenched in pain. "Oh, yes," he said. "I know what that is like. . ."

"I didn't have this fear when I was young," she continued. It seemed as though she had been damming up her feelings for so long that a listening ear was enough to bring the misery crashing down. "I envy children sometimes. They believe in the impossible with such confidence. Once we grow up we start to learn that something that seems too good to be true probably is. Children don't do that. They reach for Paradise with both hands and a glad smile. After that first betrayal or disaster, I think we start to always hold a little bit of ourselves back when we love, to keep us from being utterly destroyed if it all crumbles beneath our feet. Love shouldn't need to be like that. . . We shouldn't need to be afraid." Her tears continued and she buried her face in his chest.

Peter gripped her tighter in comfort but also as an anchor. Her words brought a sharp epiphany to his mind. He had never quite understood why Aslan had sent him back because he was 'too old.' He suddenly realized that his exile from Narnia had nothing to do with his age in years, but because he had started to fear losing what he held so dear. It wasn't a punishment. It was a challenge. He needed to re-learn how to love in the way that Narnia and Aslan _should be _loved; without fear and without holding anything back. He felt his heart soar like an uncaged bird for a moment. He knew that even if he had finally come to understand his fate, it still wouldn't change the fact he wouldn't go back. But, for a brief moment, it didn't matter. That sort of faith didn't need a physical presence to inspire it. It simply was.

Leona still wept in his arms and Peter felt as though she was crying for her family, and for all the years that she faced the world alone. Knowing instinctively that no further words were needed he simply held her tight and let her cry. He didn't think she'd notice the tears leaking down his own face.

Out in the hallway, tears running down her own cheeks, Susan quietly slipped upstairs. She felt ashamed for eavesdropping, but knew that she would never be able to forget what she had heard.

TBC...

Review, please!!


	14. Chapter 14:Do you Believe in Magic?

*Peeks out from under the rock she's been hiding under* Hello, anybody there? Sorry, I did say that I would try to not go two weeks without an update, but things just didn't work out. I had a very difficult time getting started on this chapter, and a very difficult time deciding what I wanted in it as well. I will say that there are likely be another couple of chapters that will take over two weeks to get posted. Sorry, that is just the way it is going to have to be. I'm in a very critical part of the plot and I need to make sure I get everything right.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Fourteen: Do You Believe in Magic?

Everyone who was staying at the Pevensie house was up and about by nine o'clock on Christmas morning. There was the usual bustle of getting dressed and finding coffee and tea, and then everyone settled around the Christmas tree in the living room. With nine people crammed into the room it was rather crowded and Leona ended curled up on the floor next to Peter.

Peter had pulled Leona off to the side before they joined the others. He had left her at the girls' room late the previous evening with a kiss and an admonishment to get some sleep. She looked better this morning; almost completely back to normal. Her eyes were still a little puffy from crying, but she was calm and seemed happy.

"How are you doing?" Peter asked her, quietly.

"Much better," Leona replied. "Thank you for last night. I've never had the opportunity to really talk to someone about my family for years, other than Prowler. It helps to talk to a human, cats just aren't the same!"

Peter chuckled. "At your service, my lady! Slaying dragons, rescuing fair maidens and the occasional heart-to-heart are my specialties."

She grinned up at him. "Is there anything you can't do?"

He seemed to give the question serious thought for a moment. "I can't sew. I've tried. I don't think Susan and Lucy have laughed so hard in their lives."

Leona started giggling. "That's all right, as I am perfectly capable of sewing anything you need. Except for maybe a tent. I'm not so great with large projects."

Arm in arm, Peter led Leona into the living room to join the others for presents.

After everyone had found comfortable seats, Lucy, Jill and Eustace went on their hands and knees digging under the tree. Leona jumped to her feet with a little cry.

"Oh, I forgot to bring the presents I brought downstairs. Peter, would you come and help me with the box? I'd hate to drop it," she said, heading for the door.

Peter willingly got up to help. Edmund started chuckling as he passed.

"She's got you well trained already, Peter," Edmund said teasingly.

Peter aimed a smack at his brother's head, but didn't reply. Leona however, did.

"Oh, he was already domesticated when I found him," she said with a cheeky grin. "It was just a matter of housebreaking him."

Peter's jaw dropped indignantly. "I am not a dog, you know!"

"Of course not, dear," Leona replied. "You are most definitely a cat. Handsome, confidant, and incapable of admitting you're wrong!"

The room burst out laughing. Peter crossed his arms and looked sulky.

"And here I thought you wanted my help," he said.

Leona sauntered back into the room, and put one small hand on his large one. She looked up into his eyes, and said, "Please, Peter?"

Peter kept moving his head to avoid looking at her, and loosing his snit. He knew that she was only playing and so was he, but he was at least going to make her beg now that she had compared him to a house cat, and in front of the family no less! She finally managed to get him to look at her, and sure enough, his snit vanished in a heartbeat. She was looking up at him with sweet, innocent, hazel eyes and there was just a hint of a pout on her full lips.

"Please?" she said again.

"Alright," Peter said. "Cheeky little wench. But you owe me for calling me a house cat."

Leona went up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek, and then popped out of the room. Peter followed her up the stairs to the girls' room and carried the large box downstairs. Before going into the living room he set the box down and pulled Leona into his arms.

"You know, a piddly kiss on the cheek is hardly fair recompense for all the teasing Edmund is going to give me for being compared to a domesticated house cat," Peter said.

"Oh, really," Leona drawled. "So you were thinking of something a little more impressive?"

"Maybe," Peter managed to say, before her soft lips were on his. He felt her arms go around his neck, then the only thing in the world were his lips and the wonderful sensations hers were inspiring there. A few moments later, she pulled away an inch or so.

"Happy Christmas, Peter," were her soft words.

He smiled. "Happy Christmas, Leona."

She pulled out of his embrace and headed back towards the living room. "We had better get back before they send Edmund out to find us."

Peter gave a full body shudder at the thought of the heckling he would receive from his brother if Edmund had caught him and Leona kissing in the hallway. He picked up the box and followed Leona.

Jill and Lucy had passed out presents until everyone had a quite respectable pile in front of them. Leona reached into her box and started handing presents out as well, keeping Peter's present hidden in the box. "I want you to open yours last," she said.

Paper and ribbons were everywhere within a few moments. Presents were opened and exclaimed over. Susan gave a delighted squeal at the book that her package from Peter revealed. By some chance Lucy, Edmund, Eustace and Jill were all opening their gifts from Peter at the same time. The lion pendants for the girls and the rings for the men were originally meant as just a reminder of times spent in another world. But with the upcoming attempt to send Jill and Eustace back into Narnia, the Lion on the jewelry had more meaning than ever. Peter saw Susan clutching her book to her chest like a shield, and Peter was suddenly grateful that he and Leona had only found the jewelry after he had gotten Susan's present. He knew that with her self-chosen denial of Narnia, she would not have enjoyed the reminder of the land she had once ruled, and he was relieved that any awkwardness was avoided.

Lucy had gotten up and embraced her brother, with a murmured, "Thank you so much. I love it!" The Narnians were slipping on the gifts and Peter answered a questioning look from Edmund by subtly showing his right hand where a matching ring adorned his finger. His younger brother gave a little nod that said that everything was as it should be.

Lucy gave a long package each to Peter, Edmund and Eustace. "I thought these might be fun for you to practice with."

Each of the boys opened their gifts and found a long wooden practice sword. Peter and Edmund both pounced on their sister in glee. While the boys were still at school together they had been able to spar and keep up their skills, but once Peter left for college, they had no opportunity or equipment. Eustace looked happy as well, but also a little dismayed at the thought of being Peter and Edmund's 'new blood'. He had been taught how to fight in Narnia, but had not been able to sword fight since then. He and Jill had both been practicing archery since the boarding school they attended had an archery range, but he hadn't held a sword since he'd returned from Narnia. He feebly hoped his cousins would go easy on him.

Peter looked around the room. There were piles of wrapping paper and opened presents everywhere, but no other presents to be opened. He turned to Leona. He had also kept his present for Leona until the end, thinking that it would be a nice way of ending the morning. He reached into his pocket for the small jewelry box. He had kept the ring in his room, planning on using it for a later gift. _As an engagement ring,_ a small voice in the back of his head murmured.

Leona suddenly looked a little nervous as Peter handed her the small box. Peter could see his mother across the room look excited.

Leona slowly opened the little package, and gasped when she saw the golden lion necklace inside. "Oh, Peter," she breathed. "It's beautiful! Help me put it on!"

Peter willingly pulled her hair aside and fastened the clasp, pressing a quick kiss to the base of her neck before letting her go. He noticed his mother looking slightly disappointed. He guessed that she was hoping he would offer Leona a piece of jewelry that was round and involved him on one knee, proposing. _It's on my to-do list, _he thought. _Maybe for Valentine's Day..._

"Now for your present, Peter," Leona said, reaching into the box behind her.

She handed him a very long package that was surprisingly heavy. Peter pulled the ribbon and paper away. He lifted the lid and his face went pale.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, looking at Leona.

"Estate sale actually," she replied. "It was in horrible condition when I bought it, but I know a smith in Canterbury who restored it for me."

All eyes were on Peter as he drew the sword from its scabbard. It was simple and unadorned, a plain solder's sword, and it looked very little like Rhindon, the sword he had wielded as High King. But, its blade was keen and the weight and balance perfect. He heard gasps from his siblings and he knew that he must present quite a picture, holding a sword in his hand once again. He looked down at Leona who had a curious look on her face; satisfaction and excitement.

"I know that it's no Excalibur, and I'm hardly the Lady of the Lake, but I think that it still suits you," she said.

With a sense of deja-vu, he slid the sword back into its sheath, in the same fluid motion that he had sheathed the first sword he had owned, on a Christmas morning so many years ago, in a place so far from here.

"Thank you," he told Leona simply, but sincerely. "More than you can know."

She smiled back at him as he passed the sheathed sword around to the others to look at.

"Why isn't this in a museum somewhere?" Edmund asked. "It is either a replica or at least four hundred years old!"

Leona shook her head. "It's real, alright. It was just in bad enough condition that it would have needed to be completely reforged in order to look good enough to display. The museum didn't want it."

She turned to Peter. "It's not a very practical gift. You are highly unlikely to ever need a sword in England, but I saw it and knew that it should belong to you. Now you are one step closer to matching the description that Anthony gave me when we first met."

"Oh, we really don't need to remember the drivel that Anthony was spouting that afternoon," Peter said, trying to get Leona to avoid repeating Anthony's overly flattering description.

Leona was having none of it. "What did he call you again? Ah, yes. The epitome of chivalry, a true 'Knight in Shining Armor.'"

Peter rolled his eyes as Edmund and Eustace snickered.

"Anthony talks too much," Peter muttered.

Leona smiled. "Anthony may be a bit over the top at times," she admitted. She picked up the sword that had made a pass around the room and had come back to her. She knelt by Peter's feet and holding it flat with both hands, offered him the blade. "This sword is also to remind you that even though Anthony may have been joking, that doesn't mean that he wasn't right."

* * *

As they all left the living room to take their gifts upstairs, Edmund pulled Peter aside.

"Now I see what you meant about Leona bringing out the High King!" Edmund said. "Are you sure she doesn't know about Narnia?"

Peter shrugged. "I haven't told her yet, so if she does it's because she's been there herself. I should think one of us would have heard about it in Narnia if she had, though. Visitors from our world are usually called there for a reason and tend to cause a stir. I should think she would be too old to have gone after Eustace and Jill got back the last time, so I doubt she would have been there since we last had word."

Edmund nodded. "For what it's worth, I think you should tell her. But not until after the holidays. It's just too crazy right now."

"I'm planning on it, I just need to sound her out a bit more," Peter said. "She could just be seeing the Narnian part of me coming out, and is reacting to that. I know that she is attracted to chivalry and the more noble parts of human nature. Narnia did make me a better man that I would have been otherwise."

"Maybe," Edmund replied. "She says things that make me feel that she knows more than she should. But, then I look back on what she actually said, and I realize that it could just as easily be a lucky guess or an innocent observation. I just can't tell."

"I can't tell either," Peter said, clapping his brother on the shoulder as he made to leave the room. "But either way, does it really matter?"

* * *

The day was spent playing with new gifts and talking. After lunch, Polly and Digory arrived and there was another short round of gift exchanging. Peter managed to give the two older Narnians their gifts in private and mentioned how each of the others had a matching piece.

"It's a way of binding us together," Peter said, slightly embarrassed at the sentimentality of his gifts.

"I agree," Digory said, easing Peter's discomfort. "It is a way to connect us, and remind us of Narnia, even when we are far apart from each other."

* * *

Dinner was a culinary delight. There were vegetables of every kind, breads, salads, and a glorious roast. The conversations were a bit more formal than usual, and efforts were made to ensure that Jill and Leona both felt welcome and comfortable. Every topic under the sun was discussed, from the semester tests that the children had taken, to the gifts that were received that morning.

"I sense that you had something to do with Peter's taste improving this year, Leona. He has never been this good at finding presents," Lucy was saying. Lucy had fallen in love with her earrings from Leona and had not taken them off since she had gotten them. "It was almost magical, the way that you knew just what everyone would like."

Leona gave a little laugh. "While I will admit that I did accompany Peter on his little shopping excursion, I wouldn't necessarily call it magical."

Aunt Polly saw an opportunity and took it. "Do you believe in magic, Leona?"

The majority of the table got a little quieter in anticipation of Leona's answer. All of Peter's family and friends had quite approved of Leona, but everything would depend on her response to Peter telling her about Narnia. Peter held his breath.

Leona seemed to think for a minute before slowly answering. "I suppose that depends on what you mean by magic. If you are talking about the pull-a-rabbit-out-of-a-hat sort of magic, than no. That's just slight of hand. Witches and wizards and other sorts of that kind of magic, I suppose I believe in the possibility of their existence..." She trailed off, but looked introspective. "But, there are other kinds of magic. There is magic in many everyday things; a vibrant sunset over the ocean, a baby's first breath, the love between a man and a woman. All of those things are magic. As far as I'm concerned, there is magic in everything beautiful, if only you are willing to see it."

She looked up at the rest of the table and started blushing. "I'm sorry, it's just a pet subject of mine... I didn't mean to ramble on like that." She looked highly embarrassed.

The Professor spoke first. "Don't be ashamed. You are wiser than your years should account for."

Leona seemed to recover her spunk. "Well, age does not have the monopoly on wisdom, just on experience."

Digory raised his glass to her in salute of a well spoken reply. "Very true, and even experience does not bring wisdom, even though it should."

"Well, wisdom is not universal either," Leona countered. "One man's wisdom is another man's foolishness."

The Professor threw back his head and laughed heartily. "You have my respect, Leona. I have a feeling that you didn't learn _that_ in school," he said.

Peter and Susan exchanged little smiles, remembering the Professor muttering under his breath "Bless me, what do they teach them at these schools?" The Professor seemed to have a poor opinion of any school at which he didn't teach.

Lucy finally asked a question that she was interested in hearing Leona answer. "What about mythological animals? What do you think about them?"

Susan broke in before Leona could answer. "Lucy, is this really a subject for the dinner table? Not everyone shares your interest in legends."

Lucy looked grumpy for a moment, but Leona came to her rescue.

"Of course it is, Susan!" Leona said with a laugh. "This is the dinner table and we are talking about it, so thus it stands to reason that it is a subject for the dinner table!" She shared a wink with Lucy.

"To answer your question, Lucy," Leona said. "I assume that you are talking about dragons and sphinxes and such? Well, I don't think they exist anymore, or someone would have found evidence of them. But, I do think that they must have existed sometime, somewhere or there would not have been so many cultures with similar legends."

"That makes sense," Mrs. Pevensie said, joining in the conversation for the first time. "Either that or it was some drunken man spotting a large eagle and thinking it was a dragon. He tells his friends and the next time his friends get drunk and see a large eagle they say that they have seen a dragon as well!"

"It would be amusing to see how many folk stories are based off of a true event and how many are completely made up," Lucy said.

"We shall never know," Digory said philosophically.

* * *

Dinner had ended and the men had been shunted out to the living room so the women could clean up without interference. Leona and Susan were put to work washing the dishes; Leona washing and Susan drying and putting the dishes away. All of the other women had already left the kitchen and the two girls were left alone.

Susan broke the friendly silence.

"Leona, I have something to admit to you," Susan said, awkwardly.

Leona gave her a quizzical look in reply.

"I overheard your conversation with Peter last night," Susan confessed. "Actually, it was more of eavesdropping than overhearing, and I just wanted to apologize."

Leona looked uncomfortable. "So you know about my family," she said.

"Leona, I'm so sorry," Susan burst out. "I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped and I feel horrible about it. Can you forgive me?"

Leona abandoned her dish washing and turned to look at Susan. "Are you sorry because you eavesdropped or sorry because of what you heard?"

Susan looked confused, so Leona elaborated.

"Would you still feel guilty about eavesdropping if Peter and I had been talking about something else?"

Susan thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. I probably wouldn't have bothered listening if you hadn't been talking about something interesting. I knew I should have left as soon as I realized it was a private conversation rather than just you two chatting, but you are quite the mystery and I was curious." Susan looked at her feet, ashamed.

"At least you're honest," Leona said with a sigh. "You're forgiven. But, next time just _ask_ if you want to know something about me. I may not be able to tell you, but at least you would be up front about it."

Susan gave Leona a relieved smile. "Thank you."

The girls worked in silence for a few more minutes then Susan said, "How did you manage? Losing your family like that must have been so difficult. I never would be able to handle being all on my own."

"It wasn't easy. I had to take each day as it came, get through life minute by minute until the pain dulled," Leona said. "It broke my spirit, at least for a while. I felt so incredibly alone, until I realized that they weren't truly gone. I could still feel them by my side, supporting me until I healed enough to stand on my own."

Susan didn't respond, and Leona turned and looked at her with a wry smile. "You are very easy to talk to, Susan Pevensie. I don't think I've told anyone other than Peter this much about myself."

Susan gave a small shrug. "I'm a good listener." She tried awkwardly to tuck a strand of hair back into her bun, but at her touch the bun collapsed. With a sigh of exasperation Susan picked up the ribbon that had come loose and attempted to retie the bow. Leona reached around to help and said as she did so, "I'd like us to be friends, you and I."

Susan smiled. "I'd like that too."

"I will admit it would be heavenly to have someone to talk 'girl talk' with," Leona said, finishing her work on Susan's bun. "Peter may be the love of my life, but he is useless when I want to talk about anything he considers 'girly'."

Half an hour later, Peter came looking for the two missing women and found them in the kitchen looking over several fashion magazines and playing with each other's hair. He took one look, turned on his heel and left before they could try and involve him. The last thing he wanted was to be asked his opinion on some silly hairstyle. He went back to the living room and told the others that the girls were getting to know each other. Peter was a bit surprised by how easily Leona made friends with Susan. He had thought that Leona and Lucy would have become bosom friends within minutes, but he knew that Leona didn't have any women friends so she probably connected with Susan because of their similar ages. For all her sweet and endearing ways, Lucy was still at least five years younger than Leona so it was to be expected that Susan would turn out to be a closer friend.

A little while later, Mrs. Pevensie sent Edmund to fetch the two women from the kitchen and make them socialize with the rest of the family. Or, as Mrs. Pevensie put it, "I'm not about to let Susan have Leona all to herself!" When Susan and Leona came in, they were still a little giggly and Peter wondered what they had been talking about.

As Leona sat down next to him, Peter asked her, "What in heaven's name were you two talking about in there?"

"Oh, Susan was just telling me some interesting stories about you and your siblings," Leona said, lightly. "Is it true that you once sledded down the main street on a door instead of your sled?"

Peter choked. "She told you about that? Never mind, I shall be having a word with my lovely sister about what stories are appropriate for sharing." He glared daggers at Susan who gave him an arch look and an unrepentant giggle.

"Oh, don't worry, Peter," Leona said. "I have a feeling that sledding stories will be the least of the tales I'll hear by the end of this visit."

Peter felt rather sick as he realized that Leona was probably right.

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15: Learning

Okay, just expect that it will take at least two weeks for an update, in fact the next one might not be up for three weeks. I'd like to be faster, but I just have too many other things going on. Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 15: Learning

Peter spent the first two days after Christmas showing Leona the places that he most loved around Finchley. They spent time on walks and had a colossal snowball fight involving all of the Pevensies, Jill and Leona, that lasted for hours and sent them all inside dripping wet and shivering, but happy. Leona turned out to have excellent aim with a snowball, and Peter cherished the memory of her hitting Edmund squarely in the face twice in succession, then several more times without Edmund even getting off a shot. Peter remembered with less delight the battle of boys against girls, which the girls won decisively. Even in bulky clothing the girls were still more agile than the boys and thus were better at dodging. They also had no qualms about singling out one boy to "kill" first. Peter still felt inclined to sulk at the fact that he had been the first victim to fall to their skillful shots. He had retaliated later by pushing Leona into a snowdrift, then running away before she could catch him. He ended up regretting it because she then refused to speak to him until she had completely dried, which had taken over an hour.

Today Peter, Edmund, Lucy, Eustace, Jill and Leona were going to the local gymnasium to practice sword fighting. At least, the boys were going to be fighting and the girls were planning on watching. Peter and Edmund were almost giddy with excitement at the thought of being able to try out their new practice swords. Eustace was excited as well, but had the distinct feeling that he was going to come home with bruises. He hadn't held a sword, practice or otherwise, since he had left Narnia over six years ago.

The six young people were getting ready to leave when Mrs. Pevensie came up to Leona.

"Leona, dear," Helen said. "I just made a fresh pot of tea. I was wondering if you would mind sharing it with me?"

Leona looked at Peter for help. "Um, I agreed to go with the others, could we chat some other time?"

"Oh, if you are just going off with them, they wouldn't mind if I stole you for a few hours," Helen said, blithely. She turned to Peter. "Would you, Peter?"

Peter caught the hunted look on Leona's face and her mouthed, "_Help me!_", but could only stammer while trying to think of something to say that would free Leona from his mother's clutches. "Um. . . We. . . planning. . . maybe tomorrow?"

"Ah, you are planning on going to the gymnasium tomorrow as well!" Helen said, misinterpreting Peter's incoherent murmurs. "It's settled then. Leona will go with you tomorrow." She turned and wrapped an arm around Leona's shoulders and made shooing gestures to Peter with the other.

"Go along now, Peter," she said. "I'll take good care of her until you get back." Seeing that Peter was still standing speechless in the hallway, Helen made another shooing gesture at her oldest son. "Go on, git." Then before Peter could do anything but stare, Helen had pulled Leona into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

"Where's Leona?" Lucy asked as Peter joined them outside for the walk to the gym.

"Mum caught her," Peter said, still a little stunned at the ease with which Helen Pevensie had directed the conversation.

"Oh, dear," Lucy said then continued, bracingly, "It won't be too bad, and Mum has a right to get to know Leona more than any of us."

Edmund came up and threw an arm around his older brother's shoulders. "Leona is perfectly capable of handling Mum. Now, let's get going, I haven't had a chance to beat you in ages."

Peter cocked an eyebrow at Edmund. "You haven't beaten me in ages. As a matter of fact, except for a few rare occasions here in England, you haven't regularly beaten me since we first started learning from Oreius."

Edmund made a dismissive gesture. "All things change, and you're getting old!"

Peter snorted. "I'm not even twenty-five! Don't put me in my grave just yet!"

Edmund danced away out of his brother's reach with a grin. "I still think I'll win."

Peter shook his head and dropped back to walk with Lucy. "Is he usually this cocky these days?"

Lucy giggled. "No, I think he's simply trying to make Eustace nervous."

Peter looked over his shoulder at his cousin, who was walking with Jill. The younger boy did seem a little uncertain. "Poor Eustace. He knows that he's going to be put through the ringer over the next couple of days. I want to make sure he and Jill are as prepared as they can be for whatever is wrong in Narnia."

Once they reached the warmth of the gym, the five young people started taking off coats and pulling out equipment. The two girls settled on seats to the side of the large room and the boys started to stretch.

"Edmund and I will have a few practice bouts," Peter said. "Then we will go over the basics again with you, Eustace."

The youngest boy looked up indignantly. "The basics! I do know that much already."

Peter brandished his practice blade at his cousin as he walked to the center of the room to wait for Edmund. "You knew them in Narnia. I would like to make sure that you have the basics down no matter where you are. I remembered that it can take a day or so for you to recall your old skills once you are in Narnia, but that doesn't mean that a fight can't happen before you are ready."

Eustace rolled his eyes, but he could see Peter's point and didn't give any other argument.

Edmund picked up his sword and joined his brother in the center of the room. "You want to go slow at first until we get used to the new blades?"

Peter nodded. "Let's just do forms for a little bit, then we can spar."

Jill and Lucy sat together and watched while the two men crossed blades in careful, measured strokes. There was a bit of awkwardness at first until the combatants got used to the feel of a sword in their hands again. Then their natural gracefulness came out.

"They are both very good," Jill said quietly to Lucy.

Lucy nodded and gave a reminiscent sigh. "Edmund was the scourge of the tourney field. He was Narnia's champion for years when we ruled. Opponents didn't even consider the possibility of beating him when he was at the height of his talent. They would consider it the highest honor to take second place to him. He was considered the second greatest fighter in the world."

Jill cocked her head. "Second greatest? Let me guess, Peter was the greatest?"

Lucy nodded. "Peter was, and still is, a natural warrior. He took to the sword like he was born to it. He rarely competed in tournament, though. It wasn't out of arrogance, but he wanted to give others a chance to win, and he never really liked fighting in front of a large audience, for sport. Peter's true talent lay in battle. He wasn't made for the stilted, formal fights that a tourney demanded. He could do it, and still win, but he was best when he was leading his troops into battle, fighting for his life with any weapon that came to hand. He was the most feared and respected man in the world.

"Both of my brothers would practice every day together. After a couple of years, it took over ten seasoned soldiers attacking at once to bring them down when they would fight back to back." Lucy's eyes seemed to see someplace other than the modern gym around her.

"I think that Edmund was jealous for a while of Peter's natural ability. Ed had to work and practice for weeks to get moves that Peter would get in a few days, but once Edmund had a move down, he never forgot it. I think that was part of why Peter didn't like to compete in tourneys. It gave Edmund a place to shine. The only time Peter would ever lose to Edmund was if Ed used two blades, and Peter used his sword and shield." Lucy gave a small laugh. "The most incredible fight I have ever seen was Peter and Edmund with two swords each. Susan and I thought for sure that they would kill each other by accident, they were moving so fast. But they didn't. Of course, Susan told them that if they ever fought like that again she would hang them by their ankles from a tree. If they ever did fight with two blades again I never heard about it."

Peter and Edmund had gone past practicing forms and were full fledged dueling now. It took Jill's breath away to watch them. Peter got the first blow in, hitting Edmund sharply on the leg.

Peter backed away, laughing. "First blood to me, little brother!"

Edmund limped a little, but had lost none of his enthusiasm. "First blood doesn't count nearly as much as the last blood."

The room was filled with the sounds of wood hitting wood for a good five minutes before Peter swept Edmund's sword out of his hands, winning the fight.

Edmund bent over his knees, panting. "Good fight."

"Good fight," Peter responded, picking up Edmund's sword and heading towards the girls to get a drink.

"You're in better shape than you were during the summer," Edmund said.

It was true. Peter was barely breathing hard. "I've been trying to build up my strength again. I had it brought painfully home to me that I was getting soft."

"Gerard Conroy?" Edmund asked. Peter had wrote home telling his family about his killing Gerard Conroy in October, leaving out the more graphic parts of their fight for the sake of the girls and their mother.

Peter nodded.

"You can't have gotten that soft," Lucy said. "Even here in England you are a good fighter."

Peter swallowed a mouthful of water. "I'll put it this way, Lucy. The last fight I was in that involved that much sheer luck, was with Maugrim." Peter picked up his sword and went back to the middle of the room.

Lucy froze. "Maugrim, the wolf who was the White Witch's Chief of Police?"

Peter nodded serenely.

"Peter, Maugrim accidentally impaled himself on your blade!" Lucy said slowly.

Peter just nodded serenely again. Lucy looked a little green.

"Come on, Eustace," Peter called. "Let's see what you've got."

Eustace nervously stood and joined his oldest cousin in the center of the room and raised his blade to the ready.

"First, widen your stance," Peter told him. "Don't worry; I won't hurt you until I know how good you are."

Eustace looked less then relieved by this last statement, but obeyed.

Peter slowly put Eustace through his paces, instructing and correcting the younger boy's technique. After a bit, they started going through forms and then into freestyle fighting. Peter was going very easy on Eustace and Eustace knew it, but didn't complain. He would rather not head home covered in bruises from head to toe, though it might win him some sympathy from Jill if he was soundly thrashed. . . Once the younger boy was wavering on his feet from exhaustion Peter called a halt. Peter was finally starting to show fatigue, and sat down for a bit.

"You aren't bad, Eustace," Peter said. Eustace was feeling quite downhearted at his rather lackadaisical performance. "Particularly for not having fought in England before. Your body doesn't have the muscle memory that your body in Narnia has."

"Neither does yours," Eustace retorted. He felt bad enough without Peter coddling him in front of Jill.

"I have been building up my endurance for over two months now," Peter replied. "You haven't needed to."

That response did make Eustace feel a little better.

Once he was rested Peter rose to his feet. "All right, Edmund and Eustace will duel on that side of the room. Jill, you shall come with me."

Jill looked taken aback. "I don't know how to sword fight at all!"

Peter motioned her forward. "That's alright; I just want to make sure that you can handle the basics. You should be able to ward off an attacker long enough for help to come."

Peter was a very patient teacher and Jill was soon learning the various strokes and blocks. The sword was too long for her and too heavy, regardless of it being wooden instead of steel. Peter worried that she wouldn't be strong enough to wield a real sword if she needed to. Even though she was sixteen, Jill was small and slight, the only muscles she had were the ones she used to shoot a bow.

As soon as Jill started flagging, Peter sent her to sit down. "Did you want to fight, too, Lucy?" he asked his sister.

She shook her head. "Maybe tomorrow, I'd rather watch for now."

The group did a few more bouts then they decided to head home. Peter was rather worried about the state that Leona would be in when they got back to the house. He had the feeling that Leona would be annoyed with him for abandoning her, but Peter would rather have Leona angry with him then his mother. Helen Pevensie might seem a mild-mannered housewife to the outside world, but she could make any member of the household quail in fear with a single glance if she so chose.

Peter entered the kitchen to the sound of feminine laughter and his mother's voice.

"...I'm standing there, mad as a wet cat, in the remnants of my garden, when the little monster comes toddling up to me with his arms full of my prize flowers and hands them to me. I was ready to spit nails when he says, 'I picked them for you, mummy!' What could I possibly say to that?" Mrs. Pevensie was regaling Leona with some story, as Leona laughed merrily.

Peter cautiously walked up to the table and put his hands on Leona's shoulders. "You seem to be getting along well," he said. He had a sneaky suspicion that he had been the 'little monster' of the story.

Leona turned in her chair to smile at him. "Oh, yes! Your mother was just telling me about some of your earlier escapades. You were the cutest baby, Peter!"

Peter closed his eyes momentarily, his guts starting to churn. He turned betrayed eyes on Helen who smiled serenely at him. Without saying a word, and walking like a man condemned, Peter went to the open door to the living room. Sure enough, there were photo albums spread over the table.

"Mum, how could you?" Peter moaned. Leona started laughing. Edmund walked in and taking in the situation at a glance started chortling.

"You were a very cute baby, Peter," Leona said with a grin.

"I'm naked in some of those pictures!" Peter wailed. He could tell his face was beet red and he wanted to sink into the kitchen floor in embarrassment. Edmund started roaring with laughter and had to lean against the kitchen wall to keep himself upright.

Leona stood and came to stand next to Peter. "I didn't see anything objectionable, dear. You were absolutely adorable though, with those chubby cheeks and..."

"Leona!" Peter nearly shouted.

"... and that blond cowlick..."

Peter buried his face in his hands.

Leona spoke quietly, for Peter's ears only, not that anyone could hear anything with Edmund rolling on the floor in hysterics. "... that adorable, little bare bottom."

Peter looked up through his fingers at her. "My bottom was adorable as a baby?"

"I think it's adorable, but I'm biased," Leona whispered, with a saucy wink.

Peter let his hands down, partly mollified.

Leona raised her voice to be heard over Edmund howls of laughter. "Unfortunately, you didn't have the honor of the cutest picture; your brother won that prize." The laughter abruptly stopped. "There was a certain little boy in a sailor suit..."

Edmund pushed past Peter and Leona at a near run, franticly flipping through the photo albums in an attempt to find the incriminating photo. Peter and Leona were both laughing now.

"You needn't bother, Edmund," Leona said through her laughter. "Your mother's already taken it out. She said something about framing it!"

Edmund looked up at them with horrified eyes and looked ready to cry. Peter was already crying with laughter.

"MUM!!" Edmund cried as he tore out of the living room in search of his mother.

Peter turned to the girl in his arms. "So what did you and Mum talk about, other then my childhood indiscretions?"

"I'm not telling you," Leona replied. "It's women's business. You can ask your mother if you wish, but I doubt she will tell you either. Let's just say that she and I came to an understanding. She needed to know that I would take care of you, and I needed to know that she would let me."

"I can take care of myself you know," Peter replied with a smile.

Leona went on tiptoe and kissed him. "I know."

As they sat down in the living room with Lucy, Eustace and Jill, (Edmund was still chasing his mother around the house begging for the incriminating photo,) Leona thought back to the conversation she had with Helen Pevensie.

"_I need to know how you feel about my son," Helen had said._

"_I love him, I know that much," Leona said, looking at her hands. She had been afraid that Helen would ask her that. "I don't know what the future will bring, but I know that if I ever marry anyone it would be Peter. It frightens me to think of losing him but loving him this much scares me too. I can't stand to see him unhappy, and I would try my best to make him as happy as I can. I can't promise that I wouldn't hurt him, but I would never do it intentionally unless I had no other choice."_

"_How does your family feel about Peter?" Helen asked._

"_My family is dead," Leona stated flatly. "I've been all alone until Peter came." _

"_Why do you love Peter?" was Helen's next query. Leona looked up in surprise._

"_Pardon?" she asked._

"_Do you love Peter for who he is, or because he loves you?" Helen clarified. _

"_I don't really know," Leona said. "I'm very sure that I would love him regardless of whether he loves me, but if he didn't love me, I wouldn't see most of the traits that I love. It frightens me sometimes, how much I care for him. All I know for sure is that I love him, and that he loves me. Why he does, I don't know. I don't know what I could have done to deserve someone so wonderful." _

_Leona had been looking at her hands wrapped around the tea cup. She started as another hand covered hers. She looked up into Helen Pevensie's smiling face._

"_That's the amazing thing about love," Helen said. "It doesn't care about whether you deserve it, it simply loves."_

Leona came back to herself as Peter put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side on the couch. _It doesn't matter what happens tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, _she thought to herself firmly._ All that matters is now_, and she snuggled closer to Peter's side with a sigh of contentment.

TBC..

Author's note for chapter: I hope you guys like this chapter, even if it is a bit late. I made sure to give Amber a baby pictures' scene! I hope you like it! I would like to warn you that the next chapter might not be out for at least three weeks. Hopefully sooner, but I need to work out some plot holes and until I do I can't write the next chapter. I need to cuddle up to some plot bunnies and hope they feel in a good mood. :) Wish me luck and leave nice, long reviews, please. They help me think!


	16. Chapter 16: I Stand Alone

Hopefully, this chapter will be worth the wait! It's extra long, so hopefully you will be pleased. This is also the first (and likely only) chapter that I'm going to start with a song. It's the song that inspired me to get off my bottom and write this story in the first place.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Sixteen: I Stand Alone

_Don't shed a tear for me_

_I stand alone_

_This path of destiny_

_Is all my own_

_Once in the hands of fate_

_There is no choice_

_An echo on the wind_

_You'll hear my voice_

_Some choose to fall behind_

_Some choose to lead_

_Some choose a golden path _

_Laden with greed_

_But it's the noble heart_

_That makes you strong_

_And in that heart, I'm with you all along..._

_The olde village lanterne_

_Is calling me onward _

_Leading wherever I roam_

_The olde village lanterne_

_A light in the dark_

_Bringing me closer to home..._

_So when you think of me_

_Do so with pride_

_Honor and bravery_

_Ruled by my side_

_And in your memory_

_I will remain_

_I will forever be within the flame..._

_Now at the journey's end_

_We've traveled far_

_And all we have to show_

_Are battle scars_

_But in the love we share_

_We will transcend_

_And in that love, our journey never ends... _

_Don't shed a tear for me_

_I stand alone_

_This path of destiny _

_Is all my own_

_Once in the hands of fate_

_There is no choice_

_An echo on the wind_

_You'll hear my voice..._

_"The Olde Village Lanterne" by Blackmore's Night_

It was mid-afternoon on New Year's Eve, and Peter was lying on the couch in the Pevensie living room idly debating taking a nap. There really wasn't anything else to do for a few hours. Leona had pleaded a headache and had gone upstairs to take a short nap in hopes that she would feel better for the Finchley New Year's Eve dance that night. It wasn't going to be a large party, Finchley frankly wasn't very big, but all the younger Pevensies and guests were going. With hours to be wasted before having to prepare, the couch was calling Peter's name. Wriggling into a more comfortable position under a fluffy blanket, Peter let his eyes drift closed.

Peter's dreams were downright strange, as most dreams are. He was on the beach outside Cair Paravel with his family and friends, but they were all walking on their hands! He kept trying to convince them to walk properly, but nobody would listen! Then, like a sound heard far off through a forest, a lion's roar echoed through the dream scape. Peter whirled around looking for Aslan, for surely it must be he who had roared, but Peter was suddenly alone on the Narnian beach. His hand-walking companions had vanished.

But, no. He wasn't alone. Far down the beach, Leona knelt in the sand, sobbing. Peter tried to run to her, but the faster he ran, the farther away she seemed to be. He tried to call her name, but the sound of the waves drowned him out. He ran harder and harder...

THUMP!

Peter woke with a start, tangled in a blanket and lying half on, half off the couch. He had apparently been "running" in the waking world too, and had fallen off of the couch. He rubbed his face, trying to simultaneously wake up, and remember his dreams. They were slipping out of his mind like water in cupped hands. He could remember Leona crying, and Edmund walking on his hands, or was that Mr. Tumnus? Peter got to his feet, giving up on his dreams. He looked at the clock and was pleased to note that he had slept away two whole hours. Giving no further thought to his odd dream he wondered off in search of something to eat...

Jill wandered into the girls' room after supper with a plate for Leona. The other woman had laid down a couple of hours before with a headache and hadn't come downstairs for supper, but the dance was in an hour, so Mrs. Pevensie had sent Jill up to wake her.

"Leona?" Jill called softly. There was no one in Leona's bed, but Jill heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom. Jill set the tray on the small table, and knocked on the bathroom door.

"I'll be out in a moment," Leona called from inside. Jill sat down on her little cot to wait. It was only a minute or two before Leona had come out, toweling her wet hair. She had obviously showered.

"Feeling any better?" Jill asked.

Leona nodded with a little smile. "The nap and shower really helped. I don't get bad headaches often, but when they come, they don't go away for hours." She sat down and started eating. For some reason, Jill though she seemed sad, as though she had just received bad news and didn't know quite what to make of it. Jill gave herself a little shake. Leona had been sleeping all afternoon, it must simply be a remnant of the earlier headache. . .

"Do you mind if I keep you company for a while?" Jill asked, shyly. "It's a madhouse downstairs and I feel in the way. That and apparently an aunt or someone wired to let the family know that she had a baby, so they are all talking about people that I've never heard of."

Leona gave Jill a knowing smile. "I know how you feel. I am very glad I'm not the only non-family member here for the holidays. It makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only one confused."

Putting the empty plate aside, Leona started going through her bag, pulling out a fresh dress, a hair brush and some makeup. Thinking that she too should start getting ready for the dance, Jill started going through her luggage as well.

Jill kept sneaking glances at the other woman as she prepared to dress. Leona was sitting at Lucy's vanity, brushing her hair. Jill was still rather in awe of Leona. It took a special woman to steal the heart of the High King, even if said woman knew nothing of Peter's alter identity. Leona always seemed so in control of herself, and she was very pretty, particularly if she bothered to go to the effort of making herself attractive. Jill let out a sigh of envy as Leona effortlessly braided and pinned her long hair up in an elegant crown.

"I wish I could get my hair to look like that," Jill said, wistfully.

Leona turned to look at the sixteen-year-old. "I could do your hair for you if you like," Leona offered.

"Oh, would you?" Jill said happily. "I really want to look nice tonight."

Leona got an amused look in her eyes. "There wouldn't be anyone in particular that you would like to look nice for, would there?"

"No one," Jill said, a little too quickly.

Leona smiled, and gestured for Jill to take her place at the vanity. "No one? Well, I happen to know a 'no one' who is about sixteen, also a visitor, goes by the last name of Sc-"

"If you're just going to tease me," Jill said, turning red. "I can do my hair myself!"

Leona chuckled, and looked Jill's reflection in the eyes. "By the time I'm through, you'll knock his socks off!"

Jill smiled back as Leona started twisting and playing with her shoulder-length hair, turning it this way and that, deciding what style would work best. Jill watched in silence as the older woman started braiding parts of her hair. Suddenly, Jill noticed that Leona looked incredibly sad and almost ready to cry.

"Is everything all right?" Jill asked.

Leona came out of her thoughts with a start. "Oh, yes. It's just that this has been the most wonderful holiday, and it's coming to an end so soon."

"True," Jill said. "But just because something is ending, doesn't mean that you shouldn't enjoy it while it lasts."

Jill could see Leona square her shoulders, and say, more to herself than to Jill, "Take advantage of the time you have rather than waste it grieving for the day that it all ends. Nothing is set in stone..." Then louder, "You're right, Jill. I _should_ enjoy this night as much as I can."

Jill was a bit confused at Leona's strange mood, but felt that it was none of her business and dropped the subject.

Peter was alone in the boys' room dressing for the dance. He had finished and was sitting on the bed rolling a lion-headed ring in his hand, thinking of the woman who's finger it should grace. His father had told him once that you can spend all the time in the world with someone, but you never truly know them until you have lived with them a week. It was true. Peter had learned quite a bit about Leona in the week since she'd arrived. She was not a morning person and required at least ten minutes after waking before she was completely coherent. Her hair was a frizzled mess when she woke up and she had a scathing tongue when annoyed. She was also annoyed when she was woken too early! She was gentle, wise, and given to introspection at the oddest times. She could never remember where she left things, but would never forget a face. She was also the one person that Peter knew he could no longer contemplate living his life without.

Peter no longer wanted to wait until after the holidays to tell Leona about Narnia. He didn't want to propose until she knew. _I'll tell her as soon as I get the chance,_ Peter thought to himself. _If she doesn't believe me, I'll ask the others to back me up. _

Peter rose to his feet and went to his luggage to put the ring back in its velvet-lined box. His hand was on the box when he changed his mind. He tossed the box back into his suitcase and put the ring in his pocket before he could change his mind again, and left the room. He would tell Leona tonight. After that, it was in Aslan's paws.

Peter waited at the foot of the stairs with Edmund. The girls would be coming down in a minute and they would all leave for the dance together. Edmund leaned against the wall, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Edmund had no real 'date' for the dance and was going to escort Lucy, if only so that no other enterprising rogue could do so. Edmund unreservedly hated any boy that Lucy brought home. Edmund unreservedly hated any boy that Susan brought home as well, but Susan frankly didn't care what Edmund thought of her choice in companions. She roundly ignored the dark looks that her younger brother would shoot at any hapless male she entertained. Lucy didn't help matters by eventually agreeing with Edmund on every boy that she had been courted by. Edmund had taken Lucy's discarding of every boy who did not meet Edmund's exacting scrutiny as a confirmation of his exquisite judge of character. Peter felt that the girls were perfectly capable of deciding who they spent their time with, but had no qualms about informing any would-be suitors that if his sister was hurt, Peter would insure that the girl was not the only one crying by the end of the relationship.

Susan was the first girl ready, for a miracle. She hurried down the stairs in a flurry of cloth and perfume. "Are we leaving soon? I'm meeting Howard at the dance."

Edmund looked darkly introspective. "Howard? Isn't he the one with the squint?"

Susan glared at her brother. "He does not squint, but yes, that would be him." She continued down the hallway into the kitchen.

Lucy wasn't far behind Susan and came to stand next to the boys.

"I'm ready! Where _is_ Eustace?" Lucy asked.

"In the living room, he keeps retying his tie," Edmund said.

"Well, get him out here! Jill will be down any moment!" Lucy hissed, excited.

Shaking his head at the insanity of girls, Ed complied and dragged his cousin out to wait with the others, and slapped at the younger boy's hands when he wouldn't stop fussing with the tie.

"You look fine," Ed said, impatiently. "Leave it alone!"

Eustace started to snarl something back when he froze. Jill was coming nervously down the stairs, and she looked lovely. Her hair was half up, and half down, with curls framing her face. Eustace looked as though he stopped breathing for a moment. Peter smiled and surreptitiously gave his cousin a nudge to get him moving again. Broken from his trance, Eustace puffed out his chest, met Jill at the bottom of the stairs and offered her his arm.

Faintly blushing, Jill took the offered appendage and then turned to Peter. "Leona will be down in a second, she's almost ready." Then she followed Eustace into the kitchen to wait with Susan.

Edmund was bitting his lips to keep from laughing. Eustace had looked so self important that it was positively hysterical. Lucy grabbed her brother's chin and made him look at her.

"If you even think about teasing either one of them," Lucy said, sternly. "I will make your life miserable. Understood?"

Seeing the steel in Lucy's eyes, Edmund nodded. "Yes, Ma'am!"

"Good, now let's go join the others," Lucy said, leading Edmund into the kitchen, leaving Peter alone to wait.

Peter turned back towards the stairs and froze. Now he knew what Eustace felt like. Leona was coming down the stairs and Peter could have sworn that he had never seen her look more beautiful. He rarely noticed what Leona wore, but tonight she was in a purple satin dress with her hair up, the braid wrapping around her head like a crown. He noticed that she was wearing the pendant he had given her. He took her hand as soon as she reached the bottom and pressed a kiss to the back of it before tucking it around his arm.

"You look exquisite," he said softly. He was pleased to note that she simply smiled and said, "Thank you," in response, rather than brushing off his complement as mere flattery. As he led her into the kitchen to join the others and leave for the dance, Peter had the feeling that he would remember this night for the rest of his life.

Peter took Leona's coat and hung it up for her in the coat room of the Finchley Community Center. They all had walked the few blocks to the dance as there would not have been enough room in the Pevensie's car for all of them. Peter could hear fiddles being tuned in the next room and gave Leona a smile.

"I found out that the band playing tonight is the same one that we danced to on our first date," Peter said.

Leona looked astounded at the co-incidence, but Susan spoke before Leona could reply.

"They wanted to get a more modern band, but those were all booked months before," Susan said. "This little band was the best the committee could find."

"It's perfect," Leona said, happily, but with a tinge of melancholy in her tone.

"Well, let's not stand here in the coat room all day," Lucy said. "I want to dance!"

So dance they did. Jigs and reels, waltzes and square dances. Peter noticed that Leona clung to him a bit more than usual that night, and there was almost desperation in the enthusiasm that she threw into the dances. Her smiles were a little too cheery as though she was determined to enjoy herself, no matter what. It worried Peter a little, but when he asked if she was feeling alright, she said that she was fine. He didn't really believe her, but saw no point in pushing the issue.

The band had started to play a lively jig, when Lucy turned to Peter. "We could dance the Lion's Mane to this song!"

The Lion's Mane was the name of a dance that had been popular in Narnia and Archenland in the years of the Pevensies' reign. The four siblings were used to dancing it together, as it required turns and hops that a faun or centaur could not do. It had been Susan's favorite dance. The music wasn't perfect but the beats were compatible and there would be no oddity in a "new" dance being done.

Susan was sitting a few seats away from Lucy, and Peter noticed her stiffen at their sister's comment. Lucy immediately started talking with Edmund, trying to remember all of the steps. Peter went and stood in front of Susan. There was wariness in her eyes, but also wistful remembrance. Perhaps she would be willing to try?

"Dance with us?" Peter asked softly, knowing that she would understand that he was asking for more than just a simple dance.

"Peter..." Susan sighed, sadly.

"For me?" Peter pleaded quietly. "Remember the good times for once, instead of just the bad." He held his hand out to her.

She looked at the hand for a moment, then asked, "This will not change my decision. This will change nothing."

Peter just nodded.

"You'll make _sure_ that this changes nothing?" she asked. Peter knew that she was insuring that Edmund and Lucy would not bother her about remembering Narnia.

Peter nodded again.

Susan took a deep breath and slowly put her small hand in Peter's.

Quickly, before Susan could change her mind, Peter motioned to his other siblings to take their places. Peter saw the look of joy in Lucy's face when she saw that her sister would dance with them. Peter made a mental note to catch Lucy before she could badger Susan.

The four dancers moved in and out, weaving together, then pulling apart in an intricate but fairly easy dance that was sprightly and beautiful. It brought to mind spring flowers and summer fields, and the easy joy that comes from peace. The audience started clapping along with the beat, and soon the whole room was watching the four dancers.

Peter could not stop smiling, and neither could any of the others. This dance brought back memories of so many happy times and even Susan was smiling in delight. Peter knew as he looked into his sister's face that she _could_ be made to remember happy times in Narnia, it just took more effort. For a few minutes they all forgot that they were in an English building in English clothes, dancing to English music. For a few moments they were in Narnia again, dancing together at some festival, and all was right with their world.

The music came to an end with a flourish and Peter spun Susan around as their dance ended. The four dancers seemed to come back to themselves as the room applauded their performance. Susan blushed. She hadn't noticed that they were being watched. She hurried to sit back down with her date, Howard. Peter caught Lucy's arm as she went past, heading for Susan, and told her to leave Susan be.

"One dance doesn't mean anything," Peter said. "Don't push her."

Lucy looked dismayed, but left Susan alone.

The night continued with dancing and talk. Peter spent the rest of the night dancing with Leona, and took pleasure seeing her enjoying herself, even if it seemed oddly forced. He wondered if her headache had come back.

It was about 11:30 in the evening when Susan came up to Peter.

"I'm not feeling very well," Susan said. "Howard's going to take me home."

"Are you sure?" Peter said. "I could walk you home if you like."

Susan shook her head. "Howard will drive me. You enjoy the rest of the night. I need to think things over."

Peter hoped that Susan was reconsidering her decision to ignore Narnia, and let her go home without protest.

Leona came up to Peter with drinks. The band was taking a quick break, and then would play one last song at midnight. To Peter's surprise the leader of the band came up to Leona and gave her a hug.

"Leona!" the woman exclaimed. "We haven't seen you in forever! I had thought you had moved."

"No, Sara," Leona said with a little laugh. "I just found other things to do."

Peter looked a bit confused, and Leona rushed to introduce him. "Oh, Peter, this is Sara. I used to sing with her band every so often, before I met you."

Peter cordially shook hands with Sara. "Hello. I didn't know that I was taking Leona away from you, or I would have insisted that she spend time with you."

"It's alright," Sara said. "She would just come and sing every so often for us." Sara turned to Leona. "You must sing tonight!"

Leona made noises of protest, but Sara would not be budged. "We will not play another note, unless you sing first."

Leona looked a little exasperated, but agreed. "What would you like me to sing?"

Sara thought for a moment. "That one song that you told us you wrote! I can't remember all the words, but the tune was beautiful." Sara hummed a few notes and Leona nodded, recognizing the song.

"I suppose that is as good a song to say good-bye with as any," Leona said. She let herself be dragged away from Peter and up the the front of the room. Peter saw her accept a guitar from one of the players and she sat down on a chair someone brought for her. The room quieted as people noticed the beautiful woman preparing to sing.

Leona started plucking out a simple tune on the guitar, and Peter could see Edmund, Lucy, Eustace and Jill come to stand beside him and watch.

Leona started to sing. Her song was that of a person standing alone; in the face of danger, adventure or even death was left to the audience to decide. The song was to the loved one's left behind, with a command to not weep for the hero, for they knew what they were facing and faced it willingly. She sang of hope, resignation, and a willingness to face the world alone if need be. The words alone could be considered lonely, but Leona's voice was filled with hope. Lucy thought the song reminded her of Aslan, on that fateful night when she and Susan had followed him to the White Witch's camp. Peter was reminded of the moments before a battle, where the world seems to hold its breath, and each warrior is reminded of his own mortality and the need to fight regardless of the cost. Then Peter's world slid to a stop.

Leona lifted her head, but her eyes were closed as she sang a refrain. "The old lonely lamppost is calling me onward, leading wherever I roam. The old lonely lamppost, that light in the dark, bringing me closer to home."

Peter stopped breathing for a moment. Was it possible? Could the song that Leona had _written_ be referring to the lamppost in Lantern Waste? _Could she have been to Narnia?_

Leona stopped singing and let her fingers play the chords for a moment. As the music built to a crescendo she looked up from her flying hands, and Peter was alarmed to see tears running down her cheeks, and he knew that they were not tears of joy. She started to sing again, but the song had changed. The hero was no longer facing the hazard without fear, but with the knowledge of a soldier before a battle, seeing the enemy charging towards him. There was fear in Leona's voice and as she sang a farewell, there was dismay and grief in the song. The hero may still be resigned and willing, but he did not _want_ to face the danger alone, did not _want_ to bear the burden by himself, but knew that he must. He stood alone. Peter felt tears in his own eyes.

Leona let her fingers slow and finally stop. There was a moment of silence before the audience burst into applause. Peter stepped quickly forward to Leona's side and saw that she was still crying. He wrapped an arm around her and led her off to a darker corner, where they were more private. He could hear her saying something that sounded like, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Peter shushed her and found a private niche where they could talk. Peter was dying to ask if Leona had ever heard of a place called Narnia, but needed to find out why she was upset first. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Why are you crying?"

She looked up at him and he felt a icy hand grip his gut. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Her eyes were glistening pools of pain and something that was almost despair. She moved her mouth but said nothing for a moment, then she finally spoke. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I have to leave."

Peter's heart stopped. "What do you mean? Did you want to go back to the house?"

She didn't seem to hear or understand him and went on talking. "I thought we could have a lifetime together, but... I was wrong. I was wrong."

Peter was very worried now. "Leona, I don't understand. What are you saying?"

"I can't stay," she whispered, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Then she seemed to pull herself together a bit. "But I _will_ find a way to come back. I'll return as soon as I can."

Peter grabbed her shoulders. "Leona, you're frightening me! Where are you going?"

She gave a despairing little laugh. "I can't tell you..." Then, to herself she breathed, "I can't do this..."

Peter gave her a little shake and her face hardened. She reached up and kissed him, hard, and Peter could taste the salt of her tears on his lips. Was she truly saying goodbye?! She pulled away, and looked Peter straight in the eyes.

"No matter what happens, I want you to remember one thing, Peter Pevensie. I love you, and that will never change. I will love you past the point when time has any meaning. _I will return_. Remember!"

Leona kissed him again, then, before he could stop her, she pulled out of Peter's grasp and slipped into the crowd, heading toward the door. Peter tried to push through the crowd to follow her, but the people were packing in tight around him and he couldn't push through as quickly as Leona had. She wasn't there when he reached the coat room and when he ran outside and looked up and down the street there was no sign of her. Leona was gone.

Susan was sitting alone at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, absently glancing at the clock, waiting for midnight. She truly did have a headache, but her mind was whirling with images. The Narnian dance she had done that night. Her coronation in Cair Paravel. The hunt for the white stag when Lucy had found the way back into England. The heart-breaking grief that all four children had felt when the wardrobe would not let them back to Narnia. The hope and joy when they had been summoned back to help Prince Caspian. The hopeful belief that this time they would be allowed to stay forever. Finally, Aslan's voice telling her that she had to leave and could never come back.

Susan felt tears leak out of her eyes at the last memory. She felt like a bird with broken wings, wanting to fly but the attempts hurting too much. Remembering the good times almost made the pain worse, since it brought home to her the fact that they were _memories_ and could never happen again.

Susan heard the sound of a car outside the house, and then the kitchen door opened. Leona came bursting in, looking like her world had fallen apart before her eyes.

"Leona!" Susan said in alarm, rising to her feet and going to her friend's side. "Whatever's the matter? Are you alright? Where are Peter and the others?"

"I caught a taxi and came alone," Leona said. "I have to go, I can't stay here anymore." Leona brushed past Susan and headed quickly up the stairs to Lucy's room.

"Go?!" Susan sputtered. "Leona, it's the middle of the night! What's going on!"

Leona had silent tears running down her cheeks, and Susan felt a thrill of foreboding. Had Peter told Leona about Narnia, and frightened her so badly that she was running away? She knew that Peter was planning on telling Leona, but she didn't think he would actually do it. Narnia was far too wild a story to expect anyone to believe that hadn't been there themselves.

Leona had been throwing a few last minute things into her bag and pushed past Susan to go back downstairs. Susan followed, still sputtering questions. As soon as she reached the doorway, Leona stopped and looked at Susan a moment, them pulled the younger woman into a hug.

"Take care of Peter for me," Leona said. "Until I can come back."

Susan had tears in her eyes now, too. "I don't understand. Why are you leaving? This will break Peter apart!"

Leona closed her eyes in pain as though Susan's words had been a physical blow. "I don't leave because I want to. I leave because I must. Tell the others goodbye for me." She quickly turned, and before Susan could reach out and stop her, Leona slipped through the door, got into the waiting taxi and drove off into the night.

Susan stared after the car for nearly two minutes, before she heard the sound of running footsteps coming from the opposite direction. She turned and saw Peter running down the street towards the house. She stood aside to let him into the kitchen.

"Where is she?" Peter demanded as soon as he was inside.

"She's gone," Susan said, simply. She was in shock at what had just happened. She had gotten so used to the idea of Leona becoming her sister-in-law someday, and then she was gone into the night like a ghost. Peter ran up the stairs three at a time and looked into Lucy's room. He went even paler when he saw Leona's things missing. He ran back downstairs and demanded, "Did she say where she was going?"

"No," Susan said, then breaking out of her stunned stupor, she looked at her older brother and said, "What have you done?"

Peter pulled back, surprised.

"You told her about Narnia, didn't you?" Susan accused, coming around to face her brother. "You idiot! You can never leave well enough alone, can you --"

"I told her nothing, she got upset about something and just took off!" Peter said, confused by Susan's accusations.

Susan went on as if she didn't hear him. "What else would drive her off like that!"

Peter's temper finally snapped. "I don't know!!" he roared at his sister. Susan jumped back in fright. Peter rarely shouted, and never at her. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie came running down the stairs at the noise, demanding to know what was going on, and adding to the general confusion. Susan quickly told them what Leona had done, and they all looked to Peter in dismay.

"What happened?" Helen asked her son.

Peter ran his hands through his hair, breathing hard. "I don't know," he repeated. Then, turning, he grabbed an electric torch off of the counter, and opened the door. "But I intend to find out." With a flurry of cold wind, Peter left the house. Forgotten, the clock in the hall chimed midnight.

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter: I do believe that this is my first real cliffhanger! :) If everyone is going "what the?" I have done my job. Don't worry, I'll explain everything soon. If it makes you feel any better, I should have the next chapter up in a little over a week. I've already got it outlined. Oh, and before anybody asks, Peter's dream does have significance later on in the story. Review and let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 17: Tears of the Soul

Okay, this chapter comes with some warnings. This chapter is intense, with major character death and heavy religious overtones. No particular religion, just religious (you have no idea how hard it was for me to keep it generic). If you don't like that, I don't particularly care. I'm not changing it. :P the mention of a giant's club crushing Peter's chest is a tribute to Almyra's wonderful fic "For Ever Kneel'd". I won't have any author's notes at the end, since I don't want anything detracting from the ending, so please remember to review! I really, really, really want to know what people made of the chapter, particularly the ending.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter seventeen: Tears of the Soul

"Tell me again," Peter said in a would-be calm voice. "Why you were playing rugby on a frozen, slippery field, in the middle of winter?"

Edmund glared back up at his brother from his miserable position on the living room sofa, left knee encased in bandages. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he replied peevishly.

Peter ran his hands through his hair. This was turning into the day from hell. He had run out of the house looking for Leona the night before and staggered back home just before dawn, freezing cold and empty-handed. He had wandered up streets and into parks, looking for anyone who had seen a young woman walking alone. Nobody had. When it had gotten to the point where he was so exhausted and cold that he couldn't go any further he had returned to the house, hoping beyond hope that she had changed her mind and come back. She hadn't.

He had stayed only long enough to collect the car keys and then drove anywhere in Finchley that he thought she might be. He had visited the taxi station first, hoping that the taxi driver could tell him something about Leona's whereabouts, but after waiting for hours for the driver to come on shift, all the man said was that he had driven her to the center of town, then she had wanted to be left on a corner, saying that she would walk the rest of the way. But the rest of the way to where?

Peter had then gone to the local homeless shelter, the hospital and then the police station. No one had seen her. His head whirling from dismay, confusion and exhaustion, Peter sat in the car thinking. Where could she have gone? There were no trains until tomorrow. She simply couldn't have left town. Finally having to admit defeat, Peter drove home. Leona had vanished into thin air.

Edmund and the others had helped look for Leona as long as they could, but Edmund had arranged to meet his workman friend and get the uniforms that he and Peter would need for their trip to London tomorrow to get the magic rings. _Had it really been only eight days since they had seen the vision at dinner and first planned to send Eustace and Jill into Narnia? _It seemed like years ago and another world to Peter.

Then, Peter had returned home to find all their plans ruined by a single slip and fall. Lucy had told him that Edmund had met his friend at the rugby field and stayed to play a game, apparently to show that the uniforms were no big deal; something meant for a prank. But, he had fallen and wrenched his knee.

Peter ran his hands through his hair again, trying to bully his tired mind into thinking. Planning. He was suppose to have gone with Edmund to London for the rings, but with Leona missing, how could he possibly leave? She could be hurt somewhere, or Aslan knows what else...

"I'm so sorry, Peter," Edmund said quietly. He had failed his older brother once again.

Peter paced back and forth in front of Edmund's seat. "I don't know what we will do about tomorrow."

"You stay here and look for Leona. I'll manage somehow on my own."

Peter snorted softly. "You can barely walk, let alone use a shovel. No, we will just have to postpone trying to get the rings."

Edmund sat up straight. "Postpone! Peter, the younger two leave for school on the third! There is no other time we can do it. Narnia needs help! We may have dallied too long as it is!"

Peter sank into a chair and buried his head in shaking hands. "I can't leave, no matter what Narnia needs. Narnia has many heroes, Leona only has me. Oh, Aslan, why did she leave? I don't understand . . ."

Edmund looked at his brother in dismay. He had never seen Peter this broken before. Peter had always been the strong one, unless someone he loved was in danger and he couldn't help. Then he simply fell apart. But never to this extent.

"You haven't slept or eaten since last night," Edmund said. "Go get something to eat and then sleep. There is nothing more you can do tonight. Leona is a smart girl. I'm sure that wherever she is, she's safe. Go. Rest."

It was a measure of Peter's distraction that he obeyed without question. After a few bites of a sandwich that tasted like sawdust in his mouth, Peter went to bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he had worn to the dance. He lay awake for a while, his mind still spinning dizzily with questions and worries. He heard Edmund and Eustace softly talking outside the room.

"Is everything still happening tomorrow?" Eustace asked.

Edmund didn't reply for a moment then said, "Yes, but Peter is staying here. He needs to find Leona."

"But your leg?" Eustace questioned.

"I'll manage," Edmund said shortly.

"Edmund . . ."

"I said I'll manage!" Edmund's reply was sharp and brooked no argument. "Now go in and finish packing, but be quiet, Peter's asleep."

Peter rolled over to face the wall, and let his mind wander into sleep. He dreamt... or was it remembered . . .

_It had been the day after the Battle of Beruna, and they had finally finished burying the dead and restoring the wounded. The army was again on the march, but this time in victory, heading to the castle of Cair Paravel, and the final fulfilling of the prophesy. The four children had been riding horses, or in Lucy's case a pony, beside Aslan. The Lion was instructing them on what it meant to be a King or Queen and what they needed to do. He spoke of working hard to live up to the standards that the Narnians expected of their monarchs. He was starting to speak of things that would need to be done immediately, such as the rooting out of the last of the White Witch's supporters, when a centaur galloped up to the group. _

"_Forgive the interruption, my liege," she said, bowing. "But Queen Lucy's cordial is needed among the wounded." _

_Lucy had been taken in hand by one of the army's healers the day before, and was instructed to use her cordial only on mortal injuries, or such that would cripple the victim. She had been wantonly distributing healing to anyone with so much as a scratch, and it took Peter's direct order to get her tender heart to give way to reason. The wounded still left were all cases that were expected to live, but apparently someone had taken a turn for the worse. _

"_We shall continue this conversation later," Aslan said. _

_Lucy awkwardly turned her pony around to follow the messenger. Susan and Edmund also turned to go, Peter getting ready to follow, but a motion from the Lion stopped him. "I would speak with you more, Peter." Obediently, he fell in beside Aslan again. _

"_You have the harder part," Aslan said. "The others are your equals, and you must never forget that, but the younger two are not quite old enough to truly help rule, yet. You are the one that will have to bear the load of leadership from the start, and your people will expect you to make good decisions and wise laws."_

_Peter felt his stomach clench. "But, I don't know anything about being a King, let alone a good one..."_

_Aslan gave a lion's laugh. "I have faith in you. You will not fail. But, I will tell you what is expected of a High King, or any King for that matter. He will strive every day to better himself as a man. This is not a job that will allow for laziness, but that does not mean that it does not allow play. He will know that it is only by my will and that of the people that he is King. It is a calling, and demands nothing less than self sacrifice. A true King will put the needs of Narnia before his own. " _

_The Lion stopped and looked Peter in the eye. "Will you be that kind of King?"_

_Peter took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, the strength and courage that he had found within himself in battle coming to the fore once again. "I don't know, sir. But, I swear to you that I will do my best."_

_Aslan looked pleased, but offered a warning. "There will come a time when you will be torn between doing something that you want, even want desperately, and something that this kingdom needs. Do you understand what you must do?"_

_Peter nodded. "I will not fail you, sir."_

Peter felt the dream slipping away, but before it ended, he heard one last sentence from Aslan.

"_Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen..."_

When Peter woke the next morning, he knew what he must do. He shed a single tear for opportunities lost and from a pain that he felt more keenly than any mortal wound, because it felt as though he was choosing Narnia over Leona. Picking up his suitcase, he went downstairs to join Edmund to head to the train station.

Susan stopped Peter on his way out of the door. Edmund continued onward to put the bags in the car.

"I just wanted to apologize for snapping at you last night after Leona left," she said, looking at her feet. "I was worried, and I jumped to conclusions. I'm sorry."

Peter gave his sister a hug. "It's alright. Just ask what's wrong before accusing me of things, next time."

"Find her," Susan said simply. "I don't know what went wrong, but she's the best thing to happen to this family since Dad came home from the war."

"I will," Peter said. "She did say she would come back. I just hope that she can. I hate not knowing what made her run."

Susan looked a little uncomfortable. "So, Lucy and the others will be joining you and Edmund in London tomorrow?"

Peter nodded. "Did you want to come along?" he offered.

She shook her head. "I'm looking forward to having the house all to myself for a few days. Mum and Dad are leaving tomorrow too. They are going to Bristol to visit Aunt Carrie and the new baby."

Susan gave her brother an embrace. "You better get going, or you will miss the train to London. I'll see you when term ends."

"I'll see you when term ends," Peter repeated. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

Susan nodded and Peter went to the car to join his brother.

It was a fairly short trip to London, but the two men spent a good deal of time trying to find a hotel to stay in overnight. The Professor's old house was on the opposite side of London from Peter's college, and most of the hotels were still full from the holidays. They finally got a room, quickly changed into the workmen's uniforms, and left to get the rings.

It was surprisingly easy to dig them up. The house was unoccupied, and no one questioned the presence of two men in uniforms digging in a garden. Peter had to dig several holes and was beginning to worry that they would be looking all day, but then he heard the _clunk_ of the shovel hitting wood and unearthed the little box in which the Professor had hidden the rings. Peter opened the box and looked at the rings for a minute. They were plain metal and had either a green or yellow stone set in them. But, they shone far too brightly to be ordinary, and seemed to call to Peter to put them on. He blinked and gave himself a little shake. Before he could fall prey to the rings' call again, he poured them into a cloth bag that Edmund had brought for that purpose and put the bag in his pocket. He then put a few pounds in the box and re-buried it.

The two men left quickly and headed back to the hotel. Peter could see Edmund limping and his face showed signs of pain, but younger king didn't even think of complaining.

Edmund decided to wait at the hotel and rest his leg while Peter left to send some wires. He sent one to the Pevensie house, to tell Lucy that they had been successful and that he and Edmund would meet them at the train station. Then, he sent one to Leona's flat in hopes that she would be there and would at least let him know that she was alright. Finally, he sent one to Leona's employer, Mr. Marker, asking if he would let Peter know if Leona contacted him. With nothing else to do, and night coming on, Peter got some food to take to the hotel and went back to wait with Edmund.

Lucy sat on the train seat with Jill and Eustace beside her. The Professor and Aunt Polly sat in front of them and all five of them fairly quivered with excitement. Soon, now, they would meet Peter and Edmund at the train station and Jill and Eustace would get the rings. Then they would all separate; Digory and Polly would each go their own ways to their homes, Jill and Eustace would board another train for their school, and Lucy would stay overnight in London, then return home when Edmund and Peter went back to their respective colleges.

Lucy thought back to that morning. In the flurry of departures, she had cornered Susan and asked her if she wanted to come along. Susan had laughed, and said that Peter had asked the same thing. Her answer was still, "No." Nonetheless, Susan still helped by packing lunches for everyone and gave Lucy a hug before they left. Lucy sighed at the thought of her sister. Susan was still bound and determined to deny the reality of Narnia. Lucy supposed she could understand not wanting to remember sad times, but that didn't mean that they should forget the good times as well!

The train pulled to a halt outside of a station. The next stop was theirs, so the five Narnians waited patiently for the train to start up again. This trip had been full of delays. They had been forced to wait for almost an hour in a dingy station for the tracks to be cleared of ice, so they were well behind schedule. She hoped that Peter and Edmund would still be waiting when they actually arrived.

Lucy looked around the train absently, and noticed someone's head a few seats away that looked surprisingly familiar. She got to her feet and went to investigate.

"Leona?" Lucy said in disbelief.

Leona turned her head with a start. "Lucy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you!" Lucy said sharply. "Peter's been a wreck since you left! How could you just disappear like that! Shame on you! I had thought better of your character. Now that I've found you, you are going to explain to Peter what all this nonsense is about. He's waiting at the next station."

Leona looked positively alarmed at Lucy's last sentence, but it didn't hide the pain in her face when Lucy said that Peter hadn't taken her abrupt departure at all well.

"He's here!?" Leona said. She looked ready to cry. She leaned down and picked up a cat carrier from the floor beside her. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to get off here then. I can't face him again, not so soon..."

Lucy looked ready to stamp her foot in frustration, but short of physically grabbing Leona there was nothing Lucy could do to stop her. Peter's pain-filled face flashed through her mind and she was tempted to slap the other girl for hurting her brother like that. Peter had always been the strong one and to see him brought low by the woman he loved was enough to make the Valiant queen furious.

Jill sat uneasily in her seat watching Lucy and Leona. She wanted to get up and plead with Leona to stay as well, but as Peter's sister it was Lucy's job to handle the situation.

"But why?" Lucy burst out. "Why do you have to leave him? Peter loves you, like I've never seen him love anyone before."

Leona had silent tears flowing down her cheeks. "I don't leave because I want to, Lucy. I leave because I must."

"Why must you leave?" Lucy asked again.

"I can't tell you," Leona said in a soft wail. She turned to leave the train car.

"Answer me one question then," Lucy said. Jill saw her glance quickly around the car for eavesdroppers, of which there were many, then whisper a question in Leona's ear. They were too far away for Jill to hear it.

Leona pulled back and looked as though her heart was breaking. "Do you think anything less could keep me from Peter?"

Lucy turned white and looked stunned for a moment. Leona took advantage of the other woman's surprise to push past her out of the car and vanish into the crowd outside.

Lucy sat back down in her seat, not speaking to anyone. She looked incredibly troubled, and at the same time, excited.

"What did you ask--" Jill started to say, but Lucy interrupted.

"Shush! I'm trying to think." Then in an undertone, "This changes everything, but how?"

Jill was dying of curiosity, but Lucy would not say a word and finally snapped rather sharply at Jill when she wouldn't stop questioning. Jill turned and faced the window instead, since Lucy obviously was unwilling to talk. Maybe later in the trip, she would try again.

A silent half an hour later, the train started moving again and quickly picked up speed.

Peter and Edmund had patiently waited at the station, until an hour had come and gone with no sign of Lucy or the others, and Edmund went up to the ticket agent to ask if there had been many delays.

Sure enough, there had been.

"There was ice on the tracks back in Finchley," the agent said. "That train was slow getting out of the station, but it should be here in a few minutes. You should be able to see it coming from outside."

Eager to do anything to alleviate their boredom, both men went outside to wait. There was a large church across the plaza and Edmund looked up at the stained glass over the front steps.

"You know," Edmund said, conversationally, "If there were delays in Finchley, Mum and Dad might be on the same train as Lucy and the others."

"Really," Peter said, completely uninterested. He simply wanted to pass on the rings and get back to finding Leona. No responses had come from his wires the day before and he was right back to where he had started: the middle of nowhere.

Knowing when conversation just wasn't needed or appreciated, Edmund looked around again. Those church windows kept catching his eye... Then he noticed someone walking up to the church. A very familiar someone...

"Peter," Edmund said in disbelief. "Is that _Leona_?"

Peter whirled around to look at the figure across the plaza. Sure enough, with a cat carrier in her hands, Leona was walking up the street towards the church. Peter's heart jumped into his throat. He started to run towards her, shouting her name.

At the sound of her name, Leona turned. Peter had only run a few yards but wasn't too far away to see the look of horror and fear on her face. But, she wasn't looking at him.

The air was suddenly filled with the hideous scream of metal grating on metal and an ungodly crash. Peter spun around and the world slowed to a stop.

He could see Edmund looking towards the train tracks, and the train that had taken the corner too quickly was flying through the air towards them. Nothing that large should move that quickly. Peter could see his brother turn to run, then the car crashed into the outbuilding beside Edmund and suddenly, his brother was gone.

Time skipped and the next thing Peter knew he was lying on his back half buried in rubble. His body was twisted in unnatural positions and he couldn't breathe. He knew he was in agony, but he somehow was floating above it. His chest was crushed. He remembered a giant's club delivering a similar injury before, in Narnia, but this time there was no cordial to ease the pain, and Peter knew that he was dying.

He could vaguely feel the rubble being pulled off of him and he gave a silent scream of pain as someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled. The world went blood-red for a moment, then he could see someone leaning over him. _A woman._ His wandering mind put a name to the tear-streaked face above him._ Leona_. Soft drops were landing on his face. Was it raining? No, the woman was crying. Peter wanted to tell her not to cry. It seemed very important that this woman would always be happy. He tried to speak but could make no noise. She smiled through her tears and leaned down to kiss him. Her lips warmed his, the only thing about him that was warm. He was so cold. She said something, but he couldn't hear her. The ground beneath his body heaved and the woman turned away, then threw herself over him, protectively. The ground shook again.

Then, reality splintered.

It was as though Peter had gone through a doorway from one world and time to another. Only it wasn't a time or world that he went to. Time had no meaning. The world of the physical had no meaning. He had no eyes, but didn't feel blind. He had no body, but didn't feel the lack. He had been stripped of everything material, even the bone, muscle and flesh that he had worn. He had been left as only _himself_ in the most essential sense. Nothing was seen, touched or heard, only felt and instinctively understood. He was all alone, except for the Presence.

It was powerful, wise, and capable of incredible tenderness and mercy, while at the same time possessing a terrifying sense of justice. It was all around him, examining him, and Peter wondered absently why a Being this tremendous would bother with something as insignificant as him. The Being seemed amused at Peter's introspection.

"_**Let Us see what you have made of yourself, Son of Adam,**_" the Being said. The words reverberated through Peter like an earthquake's roar.

Visions started showing themselves before the two of them. Peter as a child, as an adult in Narnia, as a child and then adult again in England. But, Peter did not like what he saw. The images flashing before him were not of his best moments, but his worst. Small, petty faults no longer seemed small and petty. They were shown in all their ugliness, and worst of all came the understanding of _why_ those faults were so wrong. As image after image was shown to him Peter felt his very soul curling in on itself in shame, trying to hide from the memories. Peter talking back to his parents, neglecting his duties as a child, falling into so many seemingly small bad habits. Then came Narnia, and the failings were thankfully fewer, but instead of getting better, they became worse. The times when he had abused his position as High King, his unwise decisions, the occasions that he lost his temper, the arguments had with his siblings and others who wanted only to help him, the time he had struck his brother, the lives lost or ruined due to his damnable arrogance and foolish pride.

As the images continued to flood his mind Peter felt like he once had on the battlefield, coming out of a battle fury to find himself coated in blood. Only this time it was not blood, but his own faults, weaknesses and failings that covered him. If he had possessed a body he would have been scrubbing at his flesh in an attempt to wipe it off. But, unlike blood, these stains did not come off. Peter finally felt the lack of eyes to weep with, but his soul still wept from heartsick shame. He knew that by all justice he was damned.

The Being surveyed the miserable creature that had once been a man for a long moment. He saw the shame, the grief of heart, and true regret for the actions that caused the stain covering the wretched soul.

Peter felt the Being seem to come to a decision, and braced himself for justified condemnation. The Presence swept down on Peter, engulfing him, but instead of destruction Its presence purified his soul. The darkness covering Peter could not withstand the goodness and light facing it and vanished. He felt truly clean for the first time in his existence.

Disbelieving, he asked, "Why? If that was all I made of my life then why let me live at all, let alone forgive me?"

The Being seemed to shrug. _**"I wished it,"**_ It said simply. Then It seemed to smile. _**"And, because..."**_

More images flashed before Peter's eyes. His childhood kindnesses, the love he bore for his family and friends. The times when he willingly gave up some pleasure in order to help others. His generosity of spirit, his willingness to influence others to become better. His willing apology to Lucy for not believing her about a magical land in a wardrobe. The oaths that he made as High King, and then kept. His turning aside from temptations in order to best live up to the standard of knight and king. His constant encouragement to others when their spirits fell. The clever and wise decisions he had made. The battles he had fought in the name of right and justice. The times when he had put himself between an innocent and harm, sometimes taking grievous hurt because of his selflessness. Each blow he had struck in battle, and each blow struck to him, counted in his favor. His mercy to his foes in battle and his many acts of forgiveness. The many times when he had fallen into some fault, but got to his feet again.

As these new scenes were shown to him Peter felt like he could lift his head. He knew that he was anything but perfect, but he had tried.

"_**Ah, you understand!"**_ the Presence said. _**"Perfection is a goal in which the real accomplishment is not in the achieving, but the journey. Now, you are needed elsewhere, if only for a short time before your reward. Well done, Peter, Son of Adam. Well done, High King over all the Kings of Narnia."**_

Again, the Presence swept down on Peter, enfolding him in a welcome and love so intense that Peter was grateful he had no body, for his heart would surely have stopped from the joy. In that brief second, (or was it an eternity?) Peter knew that he would not remember this experience. The human mind was not made to comprehend mysteries of this magnitude.

Then, Peter found himself flat on his back in a bright sunlight, with the last thing he remembered being Leona's tears on his face and the feel of her warm lips on his cold ones.

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18: The Door

Sorry this has taken so incredibly long, but I just lost inspiration for the longest time. On the plus side, I spent the down time re-reading "The Last Battle" six times... There are major spoilers for "The Last Battle" in the next couple of chapters so be prepared! I am also telling things from Peter's point of view while, mostly, keeping to the canon of "The Last Battle", so if you want more information on the ginger cat, the monkey, or the good Calormen, you will have to read the book. On the other hand, this is where the canon deviation comes in! Let me know if you feel that it works!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Eighteen: The Door

Peter was lying on his back in a meadow with bright sunlight shining on his face. He slowly sat up in the grass, his mind reeling. He looked around and felt the same wonder and awe that he had felt when he had first stumbled out of the back of a wardrobe and saw a world that he never could have imagined.

Gone was the hustle and bustle of the London streets in early January and the terror of a train wreck. In its place was green grass and rolling hills, with a fruit orchard a short walk away. He could see magnificent mountains in the distance and the sky was a brilliant blue and had fluffy clouds floating across it.

A light breeze ruffled his hair, but not nearly as much as it should have. Feeling as though he was in a dream, Peter reached up and felt something familiar on his head. He pulled off his crown and held it in his shaking hands, just looking at it and seeing each familiar jewel. He noticed that he was no longer wearing the trousers, shirt and coat that he had worn to the train station, but was in Narnian court garb and a chain mail coat. He leaned back on his hands and felt his right hand brush metal. He looked at the ground next to him and saw a sword and shield on the grass. With wondering hands he closed his fist around Rhindon, his gift from Father Christmas. The familiar shield with its red lion shone in the sun like a mirror by his side.

He looked around again at the sky and countryside and murmured to himself, "Impossible!" He _couldn't_ be back in Narnia. Aslan had said that he would never return. Regardless, his heart began to fill with hope and a tentative joy. All the signs pointed to his being home at last; his crown, his clothes, his sword and shield, the fact that he had been pulled from one world into another.

Peter climbed to his feet, belted on the sword and took up the shield. He couldn't stop looking around at the world before his eyes. He recognized none of it, but it felt familiar, like a dream of a dream.

He heard noises behind him and whirled around. Edmund was walking towards him. Like Peter, he couldn't seem to stop looking at their surroundings. The Just King was also wearing his crown and Narnian clothes, with a sword belted at his side. Peter stared open-mouthed at his brother, for Edmund had changed.

At first, Peter thought that Ed looked older, but then changed his mind. His face was far nobler than it had ever seemed in England or even Narnia, and Peter felt that it was truly King Edmund the Just in all his glory that was walking up the small hill towards him.

"It's odd," Edmund said simply, coming to stand in front of his older brother. "I feel like I know this place, yet I could swear that I've never been here before."

"I know what you mean," Peter replied. He met his brother's eye and saw the same excitement and hope burning there that he felt in his own heart.

Edmund asked the question first. "Do you think we could really be back in Narnia?"

"I don't know," Peter murmured. "Aslan said that we could never return, but..." Peter caressed the lion head pommel on his sword. "... where else could we be?"

"Well, if we aren't in Narnia," Edmund queried, "then where are we?"

Peter looked around again. "I don't know. But I think we will find out soon enough. We must be here for a reason. Come on, let's look around."

The two kings started walking towards the fruit grove in the distance. They were almost to the trees when Peter stopped and threw out his arm to stop Edmund. There were three figures walking towards them from the other side of the grove. Peter could tell that they were a man and two women dressed in Narnian clothing, but they were unfamiliar. Or, unfamiliar until the younger woman broke away and ran towards them.

"Lucy!" Peter cried. His sister flung herself into his arms with a happy cry. Peter held her close until she pulled away, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.

"Peter... I... we," she said, but couldn't seem to find any more words. She gripped her hands in her skirts as if to show him her dress, then reached up and laid trembling hands on the crown on his head. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but somehow _we are home._"

"I don't think this is Narnia, Lucy," Edmund said, coming to stand by his siblings. "Even in my best memories Narnia was never this..." Edmund trailed off, unable to find words to describe the intensity of their surroundings.

"Never this real," the man who had come with Lucy said.

Peter looked at the newcomers. The other man and woman _seemed_ older than him and his siblings, at least the man had a long golden beard, but he couldn't quite recognize their faces.

"Professor?" came Edmund's disbelieving question.

The other man gave a great, booming laugh and Peter, too, recognized him. It _was_ the Professor, but younger, in the prime of his life. Peter looked at the woman and saw Polly's features in her face. She smiled and laughed too. The laughter was so contagious that all of them started laughing from pure joy. When they finally settled down enough, they wiped their streaming eyes and sat down in the shade of one of the fruit trees.

Peter was thinking on where they could possibly be, and remembered the blurry, last few minutes in England. He vaguely remembered a terrible crashing noise and then Leona hovering over him. He thought of asking the others if they remembered anything, but the surroundings were so peaceful that he couldn't bring himself to disrupt them. It didn't seem to matter anyway, not here.

Edmund leaned back against the bark of a tree and said, "It's so odd, I don't feel worried or upset or anything. Any other time I would have been on my guard for danger, but I don't feel anything except excited."

The others nodded agreement.

"That feeling may be odd, Edmund," Peter said, getting to his feet. "But nearly as odd as that!" He pointed to something several meters away from the grove.

Standing upright in the middle of the clearing was a door. No walls, no roof, just a door. It was plain and wooden, the kind that you would see in a stable or shed. The group walked up to it and around it, looking it over.

Edmund cocked his head, and looked completely befuddled. "It's a door leading from nowhere to nowhere."

Peter looked hard at the wooden mystery in front of them. "Maybe not..." he murmured. Peter leaned close and set his eye to a large crack in between two planks.

It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, but looking through the crack he did not see the grassy meadow and clear daylight of the clearing they stood in. Instead, there was movement and the sounds of voices beyond the door. The light seen though the crack was different as well, darker, as if at twilight.

Peter pulled back. "The door leads to somewhere, but where that would be, I know not."

Each of the others took a turn at the crack, marveling at the mystery.

"If the door leads somewhere," Lucy said, "shouldn't we try and go through it?"

"How?" asked Polly. "There isn't any doorknob or way of opening the door from this side, and I doubt that we could break it down."

"Besides," Peter said. "I don't think that we should try and go through the door. I have a feeling that our place is here."

"How do you know?" asked Digory.

Peter gave a shrug. "I just know. I feel as though we are just actors in a great play, waiting for the time we're to go on stage. I have a feeling that we will know what to do when the time comes."

"I know what you mean," Lucy said quietly. "As though we are being guided by some force that will place us where we must be at just the right time."

"Well, if we aren't to go through the door," Polly said. "Let's go sit down in the shade."

They had all started back towards the trees, when they heard a noise behind them. The door was opening.

They could see a far different clearing through the open door, and a setting sun in the distance. A man with an unsheathed sword stepped through the doorway and took up a position just inside, with his blade resting on his shoulder. They could tell by the look of his armor and features that he was a Calormen foot soldier. Peter, Edmund and the Professor had drawn their swords at the sight of the naked blade in the soldier's hand, but the strange man seemed not to even notice them. He did not look around at the sky and trees, but stood still, his eyes strangely unfocused as though he was seeing nothing. Putting Lucy and Polly safely behind the armed men, the group went up to the soldier.

"State your business, soldier," Peter commanded. The man did not reply or even blink. He did not turn towards the sound of Peter's voice. It seemed that he could neither see nor hear them.

The group moved a little closer.

"I say again, state your errand," Peter said. He was almost close enough to touch the stranger. He was careful to watch the man's eyes, for the eyes are what betray a surprise attack, but there was no sign that the man had seen or heard anything. On a hunch, Peter waved his hand in front of the soldier's face, but there was no response. Then Peter tried to shout in the man's ear, but again there was no reaction. Peter thought of touching the man, but decided that satisfying his curiosity was not worth having to lay his hand on the stranger, who was quite unkempt and dirty.

"Oh, leave him alone, Peter," Edmund said. "He isn't going anywhere yet, but I want to see what he'll do if left on his own." With a shrug, Peter complied and joined the others in the shade, still keeping an eye on the soldier by the door.

Peter need not to have bothered watching him, since the man did little other than stand there, occasionally shifting his weight or scratching himself.

It was almost impossible to tell time in that strange land, but it seemed like an hour or so had passed before anything happened. The sentry seemed to hear something outside of the door, and came to alert. The group of Narnians rose to their feet, eager to see what would happen.

The door opened. A large cat sauntered in looking neither left nor right. The sentry could see the cat and gave a single nod of acknowledgment. Just as the cat's tail cleared the doorway, there was a blinding flash of light. As Peter's eyes cleared he recoiled backward and drew his sword, and he heard the other two men also drawing their blades.

A hideous figure had appeared out of nowhere before them. Taller than any man, but smaller than a giant, the creature was vaguely human shaped, but with four arms that ended in hooked talons and a vicious bird's head with a cruel beak. With a birdlike dart, the monster pounced towards the cat. The cat had taken one glance at the fearsome predator facing him and darted back out of the doorway with a hideous yowl. The door was swiftly closed behind the feline and just in time. The monster hit its beak on the door as it slammed shut. The sentry could also see the beast, and bowed low to it in fear. Peter had pushed the unarmed Lucy behind him to shield her from the creature, but without need, for it vanished in another flash of light.

The shaken sentry again moved his sword to a ready position, but Peter and the others no longer even noticed him.

"What was that thing?" Polly asked, horrified.

"Tash," Peter replied simply.

"I had thought that Tash was a legend!" Edmund exclaimed. "It looks like I was wrong."

"Who or what is Tash?" Digory asked, sharply.

"Tash is a foul god that the Calormen worshiped," Peter said. "I had thought that he was just another false god, but it appears that there is a real Tash just as there is a real Aslan."

"I wonder why he tried to eat that cat," Lucy said.

"I for one, am not going to ask him," Polly said firmly.

"It is said that Tash shall come for his own," Edmund said. "Take that in whatever context you wish, but as Tash demanded human sacrifice at one point, I'd think that the cat must have done something truly dreadful to have incurred Tash's attention."

Their conversation was interrupted by the door opening again. Peter was on his guard for another appearance from Tash, but the figure coming through the doorway was that of a young human soldier. The sentry seemed to have expected someone far different, for he started and gave a little cry. This alerted the newcomer to the sentry's presence and just in time, for the sentry made to cut down the younger man in cold blood. Quickly the young Calormene, for so he appeared to be from the look of his armor, drew his own sword and blocked the stroke. Peter and the others went to aid the younger fighter, for he had been set upon dishonorably, without challenge, but they were too far away to get there in time. With a swift duck and lunge the younger man dodged the blow and drove his own sword through the sentry's heart. A quick shove pushed the dead man through the door and the victor pulled it shut behind him.

Unlike the sentry, this newcomer could see the sky and the surroundings. He could see Peter and the others as well, but seemed to be like a man in a trance, taking no real notice of the naked blades in the Narnians' hands. He was muttering, "Tash. I search for Tash." Without a word to anyone, he simply wandered off into the countryside.

Peter and Edmund looked after the young man as he wandered into the distance, then looked at each other and gave identical shrugs. It didn't seem worth the effort to follow the young soldier and at any rate, they wanted to stay and see what other visitors the door would bring them.

They watched the door for about another three or four minutes before it opened again. They could hear the sounds of shouting beyond the door and a large monkey was thrown through the door. It was apparently a Talking Monkey, but it was wearing a jacket and looked absolutely ridiculous.

The Monkey had barely landed on his rump when Tash appeared again in another flash of light. The Monkey did not have the quick reflexes of the Cat however, and when Tash swooped down on the miserable creature it only took one peck and the Monkey was gone. Lucy hid her face in Peter's tunic, looking rather sick.

Tash turned to look at the group of Narnians and Peter raised his sword in warning. Useless warning, for how could he possibly defeat such a creature? There was no need, for with a look that was almost a sneer, Tash again vanished.

"What on earth is going on?" Digory asked. "There seems to be another world beyond that door, and they keep sending their people in here!"

Peter turned to his sister. "Are you alright, Lu?"

She nodded. "It just took me by surprise, that's all. I didn't expect Tash to actually eat anything."

Peter turned to the others. "Keep your swords out. I don't like how Tash keeps turning up. Even if we couldn't beat such a monster, we at least wouldn't go down without a fight."

Edmund hushed his brother and pointed to the door. It hadn't opened, but with no one talking, they could hear the sounds of pitched battle on the other 'side'. Shouts and the sounds of steel on steel grew louder as the door was again flung open. Nothing came through at first and Peter could see through the doorway a dark night sky and a dying bonfire, and a large soldier dragging a smaller figure that struggled. The soldier flung his captive through the doorway, and Peter saw the most amazing thing happen.

As the captive crossed the threshold, his clothing changed from a dirty shirt and trousers to clean and fresh Narnian garb, and a crown appeared on his head. No sooner than the young man, for so it was, hit the ground than he was up again, pounding at the now closed door, and shouting insults at the other side. With a growl, he turned and Peter could see his face change from fury to wonder.

"Eustace?" Lucy exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Eustace was too busy looking around in awe at the sky and earth around him to take much notice of anything else, but at Lucy's cry he turned to them. In shock he walked towards them, shaking his head, and muttering.

"This is one strange adventure," Eustace said. "Where on earth did you lot come from?"

"I asked first," Lucy said, laughing.

"Well, Jill and I were pulled into Narnia nearly two days ago. You lot haven't been in this stable all that time, have you?" Eustace said.

"Stable?" Edmund replied with a smile. "Does this look like a stable to you?"

"From the other side it does," Eustace said firmly.

"Eustace," Peter said, cutting into what could easily turn into an argument. "You aren't making any sense. Start from the beginning."

"Well," Eustace began, "Jill and I were on the train, heading for the station, when there was a frightful jerk and a bang, and suddenly we were in Narnia. Right in front of us was King Tirian still tied to a tree-"

"Who?" Peter asked.

"King Tirian of Narnia," Eustace said. "The man who appeared to us that night at supper. Because of the muddle with time between England and Narnia we arrived only minutes after he appeared. We cut him loose and went with him to help."

Eustace suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Narnia's in real trouble, Peter. An ape was in a plot with Calormen to take over Narnia. The ape set up a false Aslan and used that authority to enable Calormen to invade. Cair Paravel fell and the Tisroc has taken over. King Tirian, Jill and me, and the rest of the few loyal Narnians left have tried to defeat the Ape and his Calormene forces on the other side of the door, but we are losing badly. I'm afraid that Narnia is lost."

Peter staggered, his heart ripped open. Narnia in the hands of the Calormenes! Even when the Telmarines had invaded, Narnia was still Narnia. Calormen had been their bitter enemy for centuries. How could this have happened! Where was Aslan? Peter wanted to leap through the doorway to Narnia's aid, but had the distinct feeling that once on this side of the door, no matter how one got there, there was no going back.

"The Tarkaan, that's what they call their senior captain," Eustace continued, "had ordered that the humans in our party be thrown into the stable where the false Aslan was kept, then they were going to burn us alive as a offering to Tash. I'm jolly happy that the door led here instead, wherever here is..."

"If you're here," Peter asked. "Then where is Jill?"

"Still on the other side," Eustace said. "I'm worried about her, too! They wanted us taken alive, but battles aren't exactly predictable..." Eustace turned towards the door as though wishing it to open and send in his friend.

Almost in answer to Eustace's unspoken request, the door opened again and Jill was dragged by her hair to the doorway and thrown inside. Like Eustace, her dirty clothes changed to fresh ones and a crown appeared on her head as she passed through the doorway. She landed in a sprawl on the grass and held her hands to her likely hurting head.

"Jill!" Eustace shouted, and ran to help her up. "Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?"

Jill looked around in confusion for a moment then said, "I'm fine, but where on earth are we? I thought I was going to be in a stable!"

"I don't know where we are," Peter told her. "But I have a feeling that we shall find out eventually."

The door opened one more time and two men fought their way through the door. They pushed through and the younger man's appearance changed as Eustace and Jill's had. The other man, a Calormene Captain, stayed the same. With a swift punch, the Calormen was down, and the Narnian was closing in for the kill.

A flash of light stopped the Narnian in his tracks as Tash again appeared, and bore down on the trembling Calormene.

"You have called me into Narnia, Rishda Tarkaan," Tash croaked, speaking for the first time. "Here I am. What hast thou to say?" At each word, Tash came closer and closer to the cowering Calormene, until with a sharp pounce, Tash grabbed the man around the middle and tucked him under one arm like a package. Then Tash turned on the strange Narnian.

"That man stands not alone, Tash," Peter said, firmly, sword held out before him at the ready. He was determined to go to the Narnian's aid even without Eustace pulling on his sleeve whispering, "That's King Tirian!"

Tash rounded on Peter, but cocked his head to stare with one bird's eye at the High King. "Who are you to think that you may deny _me_ anything?"

Peter raised his head still higher. "I am Peter, High King over all the Kings of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel and blooded servant of Aslan."

Tash cackled. "Such a long title for such a meager man, particularly one who stands alone."

"He does not stand alone!" Edmund cried, coming to stand by Peter's side, his sword also drawn and ready.

Tash looked Edmund up and down, then sneered, or as much as anything with a bird's head can sneer. "Do you truly think yourself worthy?" Tash then cocked his head again and his voice changed to a familiar high, cold, woman's voice. "Little King?"

To his credit, Edmund only paled and said nothing. He did not back down, or falter.

Tash again turned his attention to Peter. "Only with the aid of Aslan's Champion, his 'Guardian'..." the last word was said with scorn, "...Could you ever attempt to defeat me, and that lap-kitten of Aslan's is far from here."

Peter knew that Tash was right. He did not know who or what this 'Guardian' might be, but he could not defeat Tash without Aslan's aid. He did know how to dispel Tash for a time at least. Straightening his shoulders he said, in a voice as strong and calm as the summer sea, "Begone monster, and take your rightful prey to your own place, in the name of Aslan and Aslan's great Father, The Emperor-over-the-Sea."

It was a command that even Tash dare not disobey. With another flash, Tash and the Calormen were gone.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19: The End of All Things

Here you go! Chapter Nineteen. Those of you who haven't read the Last Battle will probably be up in arms by the end of the chapter, but I have the shield that Lewis did it first!! You will understand by the end.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Nineteen: The End of All Things

Peter could see Lucy, Jill, Eustace, Digory and Polly coming to stand next to him and Edmund. Tash had vanished back into his own place, hopefully for good this time. Peter lowered his sword to rest it against the ground.

The man that Eustace claimed was the current King of Narnia, King Tirian, had finally turned his full attention on Peter and the others. The poor man seemed completely overwhelmed by what had just happened. Expecting to arrive in a stable, he was instead in open air, and the Calormene he had just fought had been absconded by the evil god, Tash. Peter could see why Tirian would be a little confused.

Tirian started to bow to them, clearly recognizing no one, when Jill could no longer keep a straight face and started to giggle. The king looked at her, and started, finally recognizing her. Taking pity on him, Jill went to him, took his arm and brought him over to their group.

First Jill took Tirian to Peter, saying, "Sire, let me make you known to Peter, the High King over all the Kings of Narnia."

Still a little overwhelmed, Tirian sank to one knee before Peter, as was proper. Peter reached down and drew the man to his feet and kissed him ceremonially on each cheek. Peter then took over from Jill and introduced each member of their party in turn. After everyone had been introduced, Eustace asked to know what Peter's story was, as they hadn't gotten to explaining that yet.

Between the five of the original party, Peter, Edmund, Lucy, Digory and Polly, they managed to compare notes and get the story out. No one other than Peter seemed to remember there being a train accident, so he didn't mention it. All that the rest of them remembered was a noise and a jerk, then finding themselves in the meadow, dressed in Narnian garb, with crowns on their heads. Lucy had just finished telling about how the cat had come through the door, then the ape, Eustace, Jill and then King Tirian, when the earth beneath their feet seemed to shiver in joy, and the sweet air seemed even sweeter. Almost as one, they turned to see what was behind them, but Peter's heart already knew what they would find.

Walking towards them, on velvet paws, was Aslan.

His heart more filled with joy than it ever had been before, Peter rushed with the others to meet the lion. Almost weeping with happiness, Peter buried his hands and face in the warm, golden mane. Indeed, there might have been some dampness left behind when Peter pulled back a little to look at Aslan. As he did so, Aslan turned and rubbed his face gently against Peter's and Peter almost sobbed with joy and a complete, all-encompassing feeling of "home." Aslan's rich voice echoed in Peter's head, saying, "Oh, you are well come, Peter. Long has been your road, but you have walked it well, and now you are home."

Peter wrapped his arms around the Lion even tighter, like a child desperate for love and comfort from a beloved parent, then pulled back to look at the others surrounding Aslan. The girls were openly crying with happiness, and Peter noticed tears on Edmund, Digory, and Eustace's faces as well. None of them had ever dreamed of being able to see the Lion again. Peter looked around for King Tirian and saw him standing a few feet away, seemingly afraid to come any closer to Aslan without invitation.

Aslan turned to the young king and motioned him forward. Tirian came the last few feet on trembling legs and fell to his knees at the Lion's forepaws.

Peter expected Aslan to be the first to greet Tirian, but to his surprise, Tirian spoke first.

Without looking up to Aslan's face, Tirian said, "Forgive me, Aslan. I have failed you. Narnia has fallen."

Aslan shook his mane and leaned down, using a paw to raise the king's head to look him in the face. "No. Well done, last of the Kings of Narnia, who stood firm in the darkest hour."

Tirian gave a small cry of relief at this sign of forgiveness and then tentatively reached up and buried his own hands in the long mane. Peter turned away a little to give the other man a bit of privacy.

Peter spoke to Aslan after Tirian stepped back wiping at his face. "Tash has been appearing off and on for a little while. I sent him away, but he said that only someone called the Guardian could defeat him."

"Only with the _help_ of the Guardian could _you_ defeat him," Edmund corrected, annoyed at his brother's attempt to sell himself short as usual.

Lucy cut to the point, and asked what all of them had been wondering ever since Tash had mentioned it. "Aslan, what is the Guardian?"

Aslan turned to her and said, simply, "The Guardian is someone who has agreed to be whatever I need her to be."

Peter blinked. Well, _that_ was a typical Aslan answer, saying everything and yet giving no information! Before he or anyone else could ask for more information, Aslan continued.

"She will be needed to defeat Tash, but there are other things to do first." Aslan then walked towards the door still standing in the middle of the clearing. The humans followed him, unwilling to leave his side for even a second and came to stand a little behind him on his right. Aslan stopped in front of the door, and said, seemingly to the door itself, "Now, it is time." Then, in a louder voice, "Time!" Finally in a voice so loud that it seemed to shake the heavens, and Peter had to clap his hands over his ears, Aslan roared, "**TIME!!**"

The door flew open.

Beyond the door was blackness. The fire that had been burning on the hill on the Narnian side of the door had gone out, and it took a moment for Peter's eyes to adjust to the darkness and see the stars shining in the sky on the other side. The door seemed bigger than it had before because everyone was standing directly in front of it and could still see though it easily without crowding each other.

They could also see far better than they ever could before in England or Narnia, and were able to focus their eyes on events happening miles away. A dream-like sense of unreality came over the humans as time seemed to stand still, yet move swifter than ever. It never occurred to them to question anything as they looked through the door and saw the enormous outline of the greatest of all giants silhouetted against the sky. The giant raised a horn to his lips, and a few moments later they could hear a beautiful yet terrible note calling to the very stars.

The stars answered. They started falling one after another and landing with hissing noises at the doorway and coming through to stand behind the humans. Stars in Narnia are as human as the trees, taking the form of beautiful men and women that glowed with their own inner light. The light they cast shown through the ever growing doorway to set every shape into sharp relief. Peter felt a thrill as he remembered Aslan's blessing at his coronation. "May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens!"

When every star had rained from the sky, the world beyond the door was silent and still for a moment. Then, Peter realized that the horn had called for something else far less welcome. Great monsters, dragons and other lizards came boiling up through cracks in the earth and Peter could hear cries of alarm and the sound of hundreds of feet heading towards the door.

Soon, Peter could see where the noise was coming from as every thinking being in the world was herded to the doorway. As that countless multitude reached the doorway every creature did one thing: They looked full into Aslan's face. Those that looked upon him with loathing and anger surged off to Aslan's left into his enormous shadow stretching into the distance through the doorway into Narnia, and were never seen again. But, those who looked on Aslan with love came through the doorway on Aslan's right, and joined the stars behind Peter and the others.

There was much greeting and rejoicing for a few moments, as some of the newcomers were known to Tirian, Jill and Eustace. But, as soon as everyone had come through the doorway the newcomers all joined the larger crowd with the stars, leaving Peter and the others with Aslan watching the events beyond the doorway.

Now that the monsters had Narnia to themselves, they began to devour it. Trees were rooted up and eaten, and when the land had been completely laid waste the monsters laid down and died, decayed, and then disappeared completely. The world was still again.

Then, with an ever-building roar of sound, a long silver line of water appeared on the horizon, rushing ever nearer, filling in the valleys and pulling down the mountains. By the time it reached the very foot of the doorway everything was underwater, and not even an island of land was visible. It began to grow lighter as dawn approached, but it was a dark and fearsome dawn. The sun rose, larger than it should have been, in the wrong place and a dark blood red color. The moon rose as well and the sun reached out long fiery tentacles and drew the moon to it, and absorbed it completely.

Aslan spoke for the first time since he had called out, "Time." Speaking to the giant that was the only thing still standing beyond the doorway Aslan said, "Now, make an end."

The giant reached out an impossibly long arm towards the sun, grasped it in an enormous hand and squeezed it out. Instantly a wave of cold air blew through the doorway and icicles covered the doorway. Aslan turned to Peter.

"Peter, High King of Narnia," Aslan commanded. "Shut the door."

Somehow knowing what he was to do, Peter walked up to the doorway and reached out for the door to pull it closed. His hands went blue from the intense cold before the door was even halfway closed, but he persisted and dragged the heavy door over ice and pulled it shut. Then, on instinct he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key that hadn't been there before and locked the door.

Peter gave a small laugh as he recognized the key in his hand. When he had ruled Narnia he had a set of keys for the various doors and chests in the castle. But one key on the ring had no lock to match it. No matter where he tried, Peter never found the lock to which it belonged, but had never bothered to throw it away. It seemed that he now knew what the seemingly insignificant key was for. With a small smile he put the key back in his pocket and turned to Aslan. He was almost startled to be in bright light with fruit trees in the distance, and life and light surrounding them. It was painful to think of all that lay frozen and dead beyond that door.

Surprisingly, Jill was the first to do anything. She walked up to Aslan and put her hand on his mane. "Did it have to end?" she asked sadly. "I had so hoped that Narnia would last forever."

Aslan nuzzled her gently. "All worlds must come to an end sometime, dear one." Then a spark of mischief lit in his eyes. "But, who said that Narnia is gone? Look around you, this is Real Narnia!"

At Aslan's words everyone looked around again, and this time truly recognized the place in which they had found themselves. Digory had said before that nothing in Narnia had ever seemed this real, and it was true. It was as though the Narnia that they had all loved and was now dead beyond the door had been just an echo or misty reflection of the land they were now in.

As the others were exclaiming over the various mountains and saying things like, "There's Mount Pyre!" and "I thought those mountains looked familiar," Aslan walked over to Peter.

"You have a question, Peter?" Aslan asked.

Peter nodded, and asked the question that had been niggling in the back of his mind ever since they had arrived in this Real Narnia.

"Aslan, are we dead?" Peter asked.

The others fell silent at his question and turned to Aslan as well, wondering at his answer.

The Lion nodded. "There was a real railway accident. You are -- as you used to call it in the Shadowlands -- dead. The term is over, the holidays have arrived. The dream is over, _this_ is the morning!"

As the realization that this time they would be allowed to stay _forever_ hit them Lucy started laughing for pure joy and everyone followed her example as she again rushed to the Lion and hugged him.

"What about our Mum and Dad?" Edmund asked Aslan. "They would have been on the train, too."

"They are dead as well, but do not grieve," Aslan told him. "There is a Real England just as there is a Real Narnia, and they are connected. You will be able to see them whenever you like."

"Aslan," Peter asked, hesitantly. "I know you won't tell me any story but my own, but I was wondering something. I remember Leona being there when I... I mean to say..." Peter stopped stammering and made himself steady his words. "I was wondering that when Leona does die, would I have to go to her in Real England, or might I bring her here with me?"

Aslan chuckled and didn't reply for a moment. To Peter's surprise Lucy came to his side and grinned up at him, with that little smirk that told him she was up to something.

"I don't think you need to worry about _that_," Lucy said with a secretive smile.

Peter cocked an eyebrow at his sister. "You know something, don't you?"

Lucy didn't reply but Aslan did. "Leona is welcome here," then almost to himself, "Whenever she decides to finally arrive..."

Peter cocked his entire head at the Lion, confused at that last comment. Before Peter could ask for more details, someone spoke from behind him.

"I am glad to hear that. I was almost certain that I was meant to be here, but I do prefer being invited."

Peter slowly turned, his heart in his throat. This was too much, this couldn't be real! He faced completely around and just looked at her for a moment, drinking her in as though he couldn't truly believe his eyes.

Leona was standing there, in a dark blue Narnian dress, her hair loose and her head bare except for a few flowers peeping here and there through the dark strands. Peter's heart clenched as he saw her bite her bottom lip nervously, and that little habit more than anything convinced him that this was no dream. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and then finally spoke to him.

"Hello, Peter," she said, simply. No more, no less. No more or less was needed - Peter didn't know how or why she was here, and at the moment he didn't care. He didn't recall taking the few steps to close the distance between them, but she was suddenly in his arms and he was holding her as close and tight as he could. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and he could feel her hot tears soaking the front of his tunic. With a joy-filled shout, Peter gripped her tightly around the waist and started spinning her in a circle, unable to believe that this could be real, but knowing in every fiber of his being that it was. Leona started laughing too, and as he finally lowered her to the ground, he bent down and gently claimed her lips for a kiss.

They parted a moment later, and Peter rested his forehead against Leona's. He was going to ask her why she was here in Real Narnia instead of Real England, but in one of the flashes of insight that happened so easily here, he knew.

"You are the Guardian, aren't you?" Peter asked.

Leona pulled back a little. "You knew about the Guardian? You did do this properly after all then. How did you find out?"

"Tash mentioned a person called the Guardian, but I didn't guess it was you until just now," Peter said.

Leona made a face. "Tash. So that vile creature is creeping about somewhere. Lovely."

"He was here for a bit before Aslan arrived and..." Peter stopped, uncertain how to explain what had happened. "...ended the old Narnia."

Leona's eyes suddenly flashed with annoyance and a little betrayal. "About that..." she said with an almost feline hiss. Putting her hands on her hips she rounded on Aslan. "Why on earth didn't you warn me? I come back expecting to be home and suddenly I find that you decided to end everything!"

Aslan looked at her calmly. "I didn't warn you because it would have driven you mad to know that the world you had guarded and protected for almost two millennia had to end and there was nothing you could do about it but sit back and watch."

Leona sighed in exasperation. "Well, I'll give you that. But, I would have liked to have been here to help."

"You were late," Aslan said coolly. He was not angry or unhappy, simply stating a fact.

"I was pulling the dying body of the man I love out of a train wreck!" Leona exclaimed indignantly. "Forgive me for being a bit distracted! - Oh, and another thing!" Leona added, in a betrayed tone. "You told me when I first became the Guardian for you, that if I ever fell in love I could stay with him. _Why_ did you call me back?"

"Would you rather I had left you in England and called only Peter to me?"

Leona opened and closed her mouth for a moment, contemplating Aslan's response. Finally she simply stomped her foot in frustration and said, "It would be a lot easier to stay angry at you if you would stop being _right_ all the time!"

Everyone laughed, even Leona joined in after a moment's sulking.

Aslan simply gazed at Leona with wise, loving eyes and her expression softened. She left Peter's arms and ran to give the lion a hug, leaning her head against Aslan's with an air of long and loving familiarity. Peter couldn't tell if Aslan spoke to her, but when she finally stood back all trace of her annoyance had vanished. She placed a kiss on Aslan's head before going back to Peter's side.

Peter pulled Leona back towards him. "We will deal with this Guardian thing in a minute, but I want to know something," he said. "If you were from Narnia and knew that I had been too, why didn't you tell me?" Peter was feeling almost betrayed at the idea that Leona had known that he was King Peter of Narnia and had never felt like mentioning it.

"But I didn't know that you were from Narnia," Leona said. "Not at first anyway. I started guessing after you described Cair Paravel to me that one night. I was more certain than ever once I met your siblings, but I didn't really _know _until Lucy asked me on the train if I'd ever heard of a place called Narnia."

Peter turned to his little sister accusingly. "You didn't mention this to me, why?"

Lucy shrugged. "I was distracted. I didn't even think about it until _you_ mentioned Leona."

"I kept dropping little hints, but you never picked up on them," Leona said, almost accusingly. "Or if you did notice, you never acted on them. You have no idea how hard it was to try and give you hints without outright asking or giving away too much, just in case I was wrong..."

"Wouldn't it have made sense that if you were in the world that Aslan called his helpers from, that you might meet one of us?" Peter asked.

Leona shook her head. "Aslan never told me which world he got the children from. And how could I have guessed? I've never encountered a _single place_ in England called Spare Oom!"

Peter laughed. "True enough! Mr. Tumnus had misunderstood Lucy, and by the time we found out it was too late to change it."

Aslan, swishing his tail, said to Leona, "Take as much time as you need to explain everything to them, but come further up and further in as you do so. There is still work to be done!"

Then, with another flick of his tail and an echoing roar, Aslan was off, running to the west with a speed that no other creature could match. He was out of sight within moments.

The Narnians looked at each other for a moment then started off walking in a westerly direction following Aslan. Peter had pulled Leona close to his side, but turned for a moment to see if any of the ladies needed help. Jill was being attended by an unusually solicitous Eustace and the Lady Polly had her arm linked through the Lord Digory's. Lucy was being attended rather closely by the King Tirian who seemed eager to tend to her every wish. Peter met Edmund's eye with a little grin that his younger brother matched. It seemed that Lucy had made another conquest...

They all walked in silence for a short ways, then Leona spoke.

"I suppose that I had better explain everything," Leona said. "What do you want to know first?"

Lucy spoke first. "What is the Guardian? What do you do? Aslan said that you are someone who has agreed to be anything he needs you to be, but that doesn't make any sense."

"Well, in the simplest term that's exactly what I am," Leona said. "Aslan had a need for someone to be... his hands for lack of a better word, in the world. There were times that he needed a person to be in a certain place at a certain time in order to set events in motion." She frowned, then sighed, "Oh, I don't think I'm explaining this at all well!"

Leona took a deep breath then said slower, "Most of the time I worked as a catalyst. I am the single soldier who is in the right place at the right time to turn the tide of battle. I am the mutual friend who introduces a man and a woman who later marry and whos son becomes a great hero. I am the stranger who appears just in time to find the lost child.

"Then, some of the time I have missions like those that Eustace and Jill received. I quell rebellions, and sometimes start them. I am the nursemaid who keeps a royal child from being corrupted by privilege." Leona turned a mischievous look upon Peter. "I am the dancing slave girl who is set by the Tisroc to seduce the young Northern King, sent by Aslan to keep him alive."

Peter choked and started blushing red. "That was _yo_- Never mind, pray, continue."

Edmund looked excited. "Yes, do continue. What's this about seducing a king?"

Leona laughed. "Maybe someday I'll tell you Edmund, but not just now."

"But, how do you do all of these things?" Peter asked. "I've seen you fight and you frankly aren't that extraordinary. No offense!"

"You have seen _me_ fight, not the Guardian," Leona said. "I am simply a vessel for Aslan's power. All I have to do is believe that he will give me everything I need to do his will and I receive it, and in doing so become more than I can achieve on my own."

Peter shook his head. "I still don't completely understand, but it doesn't matter for now."

Edmund gave the next question. "Aslan said that you had served him for millenniums. What are you? Are you human or something else?" Edmund was thinking of the seemingly immortal White Witch who had lived for over a thousand years before her defeat.

"I am human, but I'm not necessarily mortal," Leona said. "I'll explain more of that later."

"How did you become the Guardian?" Jill asked. "Were you born in England or Narnia?"

"To answer your first question will take quite a while," Leona said. "But, we have the time. I better start by saying that I was not born Leona Hart. My mother named me Dareena. I was born in the 548th year of Narnian time, in Archenland near the borders of Narnia..."

TBC...

Author's note for the chapter: I know you will want to kill me for leaving it there, but the next few chapter's are in flashback form and it just makes more sense to cut it off here. Next chapter you will see where Leona, or Dareena as she was then called, came from! Don't forget to review!!!


	20. Chapter 20: Leona's story: A Simple Life

Hey everyone! Eek!! *starts running from ladyofthebookworms torch wielding mob* Okay, I'll admit that this is the longest I've ever gone without an update, but I work in retail and this time of year really saps my creativity. (AKA, don't expect another update before the New Year.) But, I've gotten this much done, so enjoy and don't forget to review!! Oh, and before I forget, a ton of people wanted to know the story behind Leona as a dancing slave girl, so that will be a full length story that I will start after I finish The Guardian.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Twenty: Leona's Story: A Simple Life

"Dareena, if I find one more flute lying around the house, I'll break it!" The exasperated tones of Dareena's older sister, Fedara, came ringing through the open doorway of the kitchen. Dareena rolled her eyes at her younger brother who was helping her fold the clean laundry.

"You break my flute, I break your fingers," Dareena called back, sweetly.

Fedara bustled into the kitchen, proceeded by her vastly swollen stomach. She handed the carved wooden flute to her sister. "Would you please stop leaving your things all over the place?" Fedara said, in a slightly more genteel tone. "I'm _trying_ to keep this house clean for at least a few days."

Dareena took the flute and tucked it into her waistband. Fedara left the kitchen with an exaggerated sigh, and Dareena went back to folding sheets with her only brother.

Fedara and her twin sister, Fencara were the oldest of the family of five children. Next came Dareena and finally the younger set of twins, another girl, Franquea, and the only boy of the brood. Their mother, Asheena, had named the girls in the grand Calormen fashion after _her_ father's homeland, but the sensible Narnian Norrin had put his foot down with their only son and named him Frank.

Fourteen-year-old Frank looked at his favorite sister across the sheet they were folding. "I can't wait until Fedara has those babies. She's an absolute bear when she's 'nesting'. I can't see how you've managed to not shout at her. Fencara was never this bad when she was pregnant!"

Dareena gave her brother a stern look. "Feddy's absolutely miserable, Frank. It's her first pregnancy, and she's not having an easy time of it. And Cara only had one baby, Feddy's carrying two! I'd be a bear, too, if I was in her shoes!" Then in a quieter tone, "At least that's what I keep telling myself every time I want to kick her in the shins!"

Frank snorted and changed the subject. "So, are you going to tell Mother and Father tonight?"

Dareena sobered. She was not looking forward to telling the rest of her family her plans for the future, but time and musical apprenticeships waited for no woman. She nodded in answer to her brother's question, but said no more on the subject.

The visiting faun, Illone, had approached her the night before at a midwinter revel, and offered her an apprenticeship. The only catch was she would have to move to the castle of Cair Paravel in Narnia. This didn't seem like such a bad thing and had ecstatically rushed home to tell whomever she could find. The only person still awake had been Frank and while he had been excited for her, he offered a word of warning.

"Mother isn't going to like your moving as far away as Cair Paravel," Frank had said. "Particularly not to learn more music, and even more particularly not alone right before the pass is snowed over."

This warning had struck home to Dareena and she realized that her dream of becoming a professional musician may be harder than she had thought.

* * *

The kitchen was warm and filled with delicious smells by the time dinner was ready. Dareena poked her head out of the kitchen doorway into the greater part of the house and called, "Franquea! Would you please help your brother finish setting the table? Dinner is almost ready!" Hearing an answering call from a couple rooms away, she went back to her cooking.

The house was built against and into a cliff face, utilizing a series of caves that honeycombed the mountain. Mostly stone walls and few windows, the only wooden room was the added-on kitchen. There were only two entrances, the regular entryway in the kitchen and a rarely-used, short tunnel in the back of the living area that came out on the west side of the mountain. The house was cool in the summer and positively freezing in the winter, but there were hearths in every room and cunningly built chimneys carved into the rock sent the smoke curling out of the mountainside like fog. The family spent a fortune in candles and lamp oil, but woven rugs and tapestries covered every floor and wall and kept the heat inside.

The family business was weaving, and every member of the family was expected to take part in the upkeep of the business or the house. Asheena had inherited the business and the coveted patterns from her parents and ruled the roost with a firm but not usually overbearing hand. The two older girls, both now married, helped weave the intricate blankets, rugs, and tapestries that would in turn be taken by Norrin to various ports and cities to be sold. Frank helped his father with the more commercial area of the business and Franquea was still learning to weave. Dareena had never shown any interest or talent for weaving, much to her mother's confusion, and had willingly taken over organizing the upkeep of the house and family.

Even though the hours seemed long at times, there was always laughter and play echoing through the house. After the work was done for the day, there would be talk and games, or going out to socialize with the neighbors. There would be dances every so often and fauns and centaurs would occasionally come over the border from Narnia and join in. Dareena loved those times the most, and she would bother the visitors for new songs or ways of playing instruments, which most of them were happy to give. She had gotten quite good at her flute playing and her collection of vocal songs was getting very large. She had been flattered beyond words when she had been asked to sing solo to the visiting court bard of Narnia, who had been staying with a relative and had come for the revel the night before. She had been astounded when the faun had come up to her later that night and offered to teach her personally if she would come to Narnia and learn at court. For a few minutes she was afraid that the faun was teasing her. She knew that she was a good singer and player, but she never thought that she was_ that_ good.

The table was set, the food was ready and plates were being filled. The family was gathered around the table and Dareena watched her older sister, Cara, try to feed cooked carrots to her eleven month old daughter, with little success. Fencara and Fedara were identical down to the last eyelash so Dareena was happy for more than one reason when her older sisters married. The only ways to tell them apart was to see which husband was doting on them and the fact that, so far, they had never been pregnant at the same time.

Compliments were sent Dareena's way for the dinner, and seeing that everyone seemed to be in a good mood, she felt that there wouldn't be a better time to make her announcement.

"Did you know I met the Narnian court bard last night?" Dareena started, rather bravely she thought.

"Oh, that's nice, dear," Asheena said rather absentmindedly. She was also watching the antics of her carrot-covered grandchild.

Dareena took a deep breath. "He offered me an apprenticeship in Narnia to learn music from him and the other bards at court."

"Really? That's nice, de-- What?" Asheena started to respond automatically, and then comprehended what her middle child had actually said. "You want to go all the way to Narnia in the middle of winter? With a complete stranger! Absolutely not, what nonsense is this?"

"Mama!" Dareena exclaimed, hurt that her mother wouldn't even begin to listen to her. "It's what I want to do! I want to take his offer. I may never get another chance like this!"

"Reena, love," Asheena said, in a more soothing tone. "I have no problem with your singing and playing at parties and such, but it's just not realistic to think that you can make a living by it. I won't see my daughter as some starving artist."

"Illone said that I could be one of the best musicians that he's ever encountered if I devote myself to it," Dareena said.

"I don't care if he thinks you could bewitch a country by your voice alone. You are not going," Asheena said.

Dareena bristled. "I've been a woman grown for over three years, Mama. I don't need your permission, but I would like your blessing."

"I may not be able to stop you from going, but you will not have my blessing for this foolishness. I will not have you wandering across the countryside chasing a dream," Asheena said firmly.

Dareena got angrily to her feet, tears in her eyes. "What is the point of dreams if you never chase them?" she said. "I would rather have tried to achieve my goals and failed than never try at all!" Then, not able to so much as look at her mother without wanting to scream, she pushed her chair aside, hurried to the doorway and ran outside, grabbing her cloak as she went.

She sat on an upturned log by the kitchen door and stared at the horizon. The sun was setting and turning the sky every shade from orange to purple and reflecting off of the sparse snow on the ground. It seemed perverse that nature would go out of its way to be beautiful when her mood was so black.

She didn't turn her head to look when someone came out of the kitchen door and sat down beside her. She knew who it would be. She didn't pull away when a work roughened hand gently started rubbing her shoulder.

"Your mama doesn't mean to hurt you," Norrin said. "She just worries about you. She doesn't want her little girl to travel so far away."

Dareena gave a soft snort. "Cair Paravel is less than four days travel away from here in good weather. You should know, Papa, you were born in Narnia."

"Four minutes away is too far away for your mother. She wants all of her brood safe in her sight," Norrin smiled. "Why else do you think that Feddy and Cara haven't moved away even though they are wed?"

"She wouldn't be so upset if I was going to Narnia to marry someone," Dareena said, flatly. "She just doesn't like my studying music."

"You are right and wrong," Norrin said. "We wouldn't be so worried if you were traveling to wed. It would mean that there was someone there to help you. Someone to watch your back. If you took this apprenticeship you would be alone. If something went wrong there would be nowhere for you to go. Home would be days away and you may not be in a position to get here on your own. Once the pass between Narnia and Archenland is fully snowed in, there is no traveling until spring."

Dareena couldn't argue with this, even though she wanted to. "She still doesn't like my singing. She'd rather I married or learned more of a trade."

"True," Norrin said. "Your mother and I both would like to see you happily wed, or learning a decent trade. Your voice may be a gift from Heaven, but what if something happens and you lose it? You will have nothing to fall back on. You never wanted to learn weaving, but you need to learn to do something. We don't have a problem with your singing, but it's not a reliable profession."

Dareena turned sad eyes onto her father. "But, it's what I want to do! I don't know if I could be happy doing anything else."

Norrin sighed. "You are a grown woman and we can't stop you if you truly wish to leave us. But you need to decide if chasing your dream is worth the price. Is the risk worth the cost that you would pay regardless of whether you succeed or fail?"

Norrin rose to his feet and gave his daughter's shoulder one last rub. "Think on it."

Left alone again, Dareena gave a sigh. She _hated_ when her father did that! If he had simply ranted and raved like her mother, Dareena could pack her bags and be off. She may feel guilty for leaving once she had calmed down, but she would have_ left_. But Norrin had given her calm, cool logic and arguments that she couldn't refute. Was it worth it? Was reaching out for a future that was uncertain worth the pain that leaving her family and the only life she had ever known would cause?

The sun slowly set as she sat on the upturned log. The dreams that had laid fallow and sleeping all her life, and had burst into glorious bloom at Illone's offer, withered in the cold frost that her father's logic and hard reality had brought.

* * *

"Father talked you out of it, didn't he?" Frank asked when Dareena finally came inside and sat down at the kitchen table. "Or rather, you let him talk you out of it."

Dareena didn't bother to reply. She was worn out. The emotional storm she had been riding had finally ebbed and left a numb depression in its wake.

"I don't understand," Frank said. "You finally have a chance to go places, see the world, _sing_! Everything you have ever wanted to do and you're throwing it away because Mama threw a tantrum and Papa pointed out all the things that _might_ go wrong."

"What if they're right?" Dareena said dully. "It does seem almost too good to be true. What if I get all the way to Cair Paravel and everything goes to pieces and it's all a trick?"

"Then, you wait tables and wash dishes until you can get home again," Frank said, practically but with fervor. "Oh, Mama will gloat for a time, but within a few days all will be forgotten and forgiven."

Frank came around the table and handed his sister a fresh cup of tea. Dareena wrapped her cold hands around the cup and smiled at him.

"Do you think I should go?" she asked.

"I'll miss you horribly if you do," Frank said. "But, if it were me, and I'd been given the opportunity to live out a dream, I know that I'd rather have tried and failed then go through the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I had reached for it."

Dareena gave a soft smile and said more to herself than her brother, "Will I spend my future doing nothing but looking back on lost opportunities? Or mistakes made and learned from? Or experiences more wondrous than words can say?"

Dareena cocked her head at her brother, a new light in her eyes. "Do you think that they will be horribly angry with me if I go? Particularly since it's only five more days until Christmas?"

Frank shrugged. "It depends on which _they_ you're referring to. The girls will gripe and moan, particularly once they realize that one of them will have to cook and clean! Mama will throw an almighty tantrum then sulk and worry for a few days. By the time your first letter arrives she'll have resigned herself to your having gone. Papa will worry about you even more than Mama, but he'll understand why you left. Christmas won't be the same without you, but we'll manage."

Dareena took a deep breath, as though she were readying herself to dive head first into unknown waters. Her shoulders straightened and her eyes shone. She may end up regretting her decision, but at least she would not regret having stood by the wayside and let opportunities pass her by.

Frank grinned at her and pulled an empty travel pack down from the cupboard and handed it to her wordlessly. With a hand that trembled just a little with both fear and excitement Dareena took it from him.

* * *

As usual, Dareena woke up earlier than the rest of the family. She was always up and making breakfast before anyone else was awake, but today was different. She dressed quickly in her traveling clothes and pulled the full travel pack from the corner where she had put it before falling into bed. She hadn't packed much more than the essentials and a few mementos that she couldn't bear to leave behind. Traveling on foot would make carrying trinkets ridiculous. She had a bit of money saved away and it was, hopefully, enough to buy anything that she needed once she got to Narnia.

When she got to the kitchen, she was surprised to see Frank already there and building up the hearth fire.

"You're up early," Dareena said to her brother.

Frank grinned up at her from the hearth. "I didn't want to risk not getting to say goodbye."

"I wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye to everyone!" Dareena exclaimed, rather indignantly.

Frank sat back on his heels and looked at her. "You should, you know. If you stay to say goodbye, they will just talk you out of going, or forbid you from going at all."

Dareena shook her head. "I've made up my mind. I'm going. They can't talk me out of it!"

Frank sighed. "Yes, they can. And they will." He raised a hand to cut off his sister's protest. "Because you love them, and you are one of those wonderful people who will sacrifice almost anything for someone that you love. Even your own happiness."

She couldn't really argue. She knew in her heart that if her family pushed hard enough with their objections she would cave in and stay. She had a rather flexible backbone when it came to familial pressure.

Wordlessly, Frank pulled another travel bag filled with provisions from under the table and handed it to her. Unable to hold back another second, Dareena grabbed her brother in a fierce hug. To her surprise he even hugged her back. She supposed that he understood that they wouldn't see each other for a long time. Biting her lip to keep back the tears she shouldered both packs and looked at Frank one last time.

"Give everyone my love," she said. "Tell them that I'll write the moment I'm in Narnia. I'll expect you to write, too. I'll want to know about Feddy's babies. And don't forget to make sure someone banks the fire at night. I've always done it so no one will remember if you don't remind them."

Frank laughed and shooed her out the door. "I'll remember! And don't worry; I'll take the blame if anyone is upset that you left without saying goodbye."

Suddenly serious, Frank said, "Reena, please be careful. I know it's only a day and a half to where you need to meet Illone, and the pass into Narnia is guarded, but there are rumors of bandits in the mountains. Don't forget that Old Man Hunter's house got burned to the ground last month. Thankfully, he wasn't in it. I don't think that anyone will bother you. You don't have anything to steal, but still be careful."

"I will," she promised.

"Here," Frank said, pulling his dagger off of his belt and handing it to her. "Take it. I'll feel better if you have a weapon."

"I can't take your dagger!" she exclaimed. "Papa gave it to you for your birthday!"

Frank was insistent. "Take it! You need it more than I do."

She finally nodded and let him help her maneuver the various packs so that she could get the dagger onto her own belt. Frank gave her one last hug then gave her a little shove to get her moving.

"Go," he said. "Look back if you have to, but don't stop."

"I love you, little brother," she said, trying hard not to cry.

He grinned down at her from his superior height. "Not so little anymore... I love you too, big sister. Now go!"

Then he turned and trotted back to the house. She started up the footpath to the road that led to the pass from Archenland to Narnia. At the top of the rise she looked back for just a moment at the only home she'd ever had. Smoke was curling up from the kitchen chimney and the rising sun was shining off the cliff face into which the house was built. Taking a deep breath she turned her back and started walking briskly to the North, and Narnia.

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter. If Dareena's life seems too boring for words, that's kinda what I'm aiming for. I'm trying to give the impression that she was just a normal girl given an opportunity to fulfill her dreams. Let me know if I succeeded!


	21. Chapter 21:Leona's Story: Fire and Death

*Author climbs over the edge of the world, dragging a struggling computer behind her...* I have been out of the loop for way too long. I told myself I'd take the holidays off of writing The Guardian, but the day I was going to sit down and start this chapter, my motherboard went "BOOM" and my computer spent the next 27 days in computer ICU being rebuilt. If it makes you guys feel any better, I felt far more miserable without my computer than you did without an update! I did manage to post my little Christmas one-shot before everything went kaboom, so everyone can go and check that out after they finish with this chapter. There also are a few corrections to previous chapters, but they really aren't too big of a deal. Feel welcome to re-read the story if you feel so inclined! ;)

For those of you who need a quick recap, Leona/Dareena has just left her home, against most of her family's will, to take on a musical apprenticeship in Narnia.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Twenty-One: Leona's Story: To Walk Through Fire and Death.

The morning air was brisk as Dareena walked steadily towards the mountain pass from Archenland into Narnia. She was grateful that the weather was still good enough for traveling. Even though it was only four days until Christmas, the snow on the ground was sparse and though she expected larger snow drifts once she got higher up the mountains the pass was still reasonably clear. The true winter snows wouldn't start for another week or two. It was cold though, and she was glad she had thick gloves on and warm winter clothes and boots.

It was nearly midday when she finally decided to stop for a meal and some rest. She was looking around for a sheltered spot to settle down for lunch when the earth shook beneath her feet hard enough to send her awkwardly tumbling to the ground. She could hear a strange groaning as though the forest floor was moaning aloud in pain. Birds rose in startled flocks to the sky.

She lay on the ground where she fell for a few moments to make sure that the earthquake had stopped, and then shakily rose to her feet, trying to catch her breath from the fall. There had been earth tremors before that she could remember, but never one this severe. She carefully tested all her limbs to make sure that everything still worked. She was pretty certain that she'd just had the wind knocked out of her until she tried to put all her weight on her left ankle and it gave sharp little spasms in reply. Restraining the impulse to scream in frustration she pulled her boot and sock off and started to examine her ankle. She could tell by the mild level of pain that it wasn't broken or even sprained, but it still throbbed and looked like it would bruise. She must have hit it on a rock when she fell and didn't realize it until she tried to put her weight on it. The injury wasn't disabling or even more than irritating, but she knew it would slow her down a little.

_So much for meeting Illone at the Shuddering Woods early,_ Dareena thought. _I know that he was planning on leaving for Cair Paravel at least two days before Christmas so he would be back in time for the holiday festivities. Well, at least I won't miss him; I just won't get there early. _

Her original plan was to meet the Narnian court bard at his relatives' house near the Shuddering Wood by midday tomorrow, but if she had to favor her ankle until it stopped hurting, she wouldn't get there until nearly dark.

After a cold lunch spent icing her ankle in a snow drift, Dareena was off again. She had to go west for a few miles to reach the pass into Narnia. The official pass was guarded by either Narnian or Archenlander soldiers, (the two countries took turns yearly watching the pass) but was still prone to the occasional bandit attack. There were rumors of other, secret passes through the mountain chain that separated the two countries, but if they were more than rumors only the fauns and other woodland residents knew about them.

She had just reached the top of the pass by dark and spent a rather cold night, with only a small fire in a secluded cave for comfort. The cave was a regular rest stop for travelers, but Dareena had it to herself that night. Few people would be traveling this close to the winter snows.

Dareena's dreams were troubled that night. She kept waking up with a feeling like she had forgotten something important or something had happened that she didn't know about. She put it down to having spent her first night in the wild by herself, and kept rolling over under her cloak and going back to sleep.

When she finally woke completely the next morning she felt highly ill-rested and decidedly cranky, but at least her ankle gave her no more problems and seemed completely healed. She couldn't wait to sleep in a bed again, or at least be somewhere _warm_! Knowing that she would get no warmer by staying under her cloak, but not particularly wanting to leave her warm-ish little nest, she got up, had a cold breakfast and got started.

She hadn't gotten as far as she had wished the day before and was determined to make up at least part of the time that day. She had gotten to within an hour or so of where she was suppose to meet Illone and was starting to look for landmarks that she had been told about, when a large, twittering sparrow flew up to her and started circling her head.

"_Cheep_! Are you Dareena, daughter of Norrin? _Cheep_!" the, obviously talking, Bird said.

Dareena started a bit. There were very few talking animals in Archenland, and she had never encountered a Talking Bird before at any of the revels she had attended that had Narnian guests.

"Yes," Dareena replied cautiously, trying to keep her eye on the sparrow, who kept circling her head and flying back and forth quickly enough to nearly make her sick.

"You must go home at once!" the Bird said. "Something terrible has happened! All the birds on the border have been sent off to try and find you!"

"What?" Dareena asked in confusion. "Something terrible? What in the name of Aslan are you talking about?"

"I don't know what happened," the bird said, still circling madly. "All I was told was that I needed to try and find the human daughter of a man named Norrin and tell her to return home at once, for something terrible has happened."

At first Dareena was angry, thinking that this was too co-incidental. If this was a wild goose chase that someone at home had started as a way of changing her mind about going to Narnia, she would never speak to any of them again! But the anger cooled and worry replaced it as she realized that, much as her family loved her, they would not have the resources to command the entire Narnian Talking Bird population to find her. Her mind started whirling faster and faster as she started realizing that this could not be a prank.

"Feddy," Dareena breathed in terror. Something must have happened to her pregnant sister! Could Fedara have gone into early labor? Dareena could think of nothing else that could have happened that could possibly be termed as 'terrible.'

She turned and started quickly walking south, back towards Archenland, her meeting with Illone forgotten. This opportunity for a musical apprenticeship was likely never to come again, but it wasn't worth the cost if it meant that she was not there when her family needed her!

She traveled as quickly as she could, running when the worry and fear in her mind grew overpowering, walking quickly when the ground grew too hazardous for running. She stopped for the night only when the light was completely gone and she risked walking over the side of a cliff in the dark.

Morning was similar to the evening before with Dareena running until she couldn't run anymore, then walking as fast as her tired legs could carry her. As she got nearer and nearer to home she became more and more worried. Was Feddy alright? Was one of the other family members hurt? What on earth was going on?

She finally turned round a large hill and could see the wooded mountain that the house was built into. Still distant, but clear enough to make out, she saw the blackened ruins of the kitchen with many more people than there should have been moving around the house. Her heart stilled and she slowed to a stop in utter shock. She would have gasped out her older sister's name in fear again, but now she wasn't sure that Feddy was the cause of her being called back to Archenland.

Dareena made her feet move forward and though her steps started out slow and weak-kneed from shock they quickly turned into a staggering run. Her lungs burned not only from the exertion and cold but from the smell of smoke, fire and destruction. Some of the trees nearest to the house showed signs of fire and there were blackened streaks along the forest floor heading into the forest from the direction of the house. She finally raced into the fire-ravaged clearing in front of the house and started calling out names, looking through the faces of the people in the yard, trying desperately to find a member of the family to ask what was going on. She recognized some of the faces in the yard as villagers from the nearest town, but no one was looking her in the eye.

"Mama! Papa! Frank!" Dareena kept calling out the names of her family but no reply came back. She could hear her name being called by someone she vaguely recognized but she paid no attention to it. She needed to find her family. She started pushing her way past people, trying to get closer to the house, but she finally tripped over a burned piece of wood and fell to the ground. She started to rise to her feet but saw something between the legs of the people in front of her and stilled. Eight shrouded forms lay under the trees on the other side of the clearing.

Dareena couldn't seem to move. She couldn't take her eyes off of the bodies laying in a grim row in the shade of the big rowan tree. Her mind shut down, and first her hands started to shake, then her whole body followed. Fear and terror filled her mind and she started to stagger to her feet and run towards the blanket covered forms that _couldn't be her family_, just _couldn't_!

"No," she muttered. "No, no, nonononononono!"

The voice still calling her name from behind her was closer now, and wrapped arms around her to keep her from going any closer to the bodies.

"Dareena, no! You don't want to see them!" The voice and arms belonged to the town mayor, Forten.

"No," Dareena cried, not truly understanding his words, just that she was being held back and that she needed to go to _them_.

Forten gave her a little shake, then a harder one when the first made no impression. "Dareena, listen to me! Listen to me! Focus on me!" He finally forced her around to face him and made her look him in the face.

Dareena was shaking so hard she could barely stand and her teeth were chattering together. She seemed to pull herself together a little and said, "W-what h-happened?"

Forten sighed and with five words Dareena's world came crashing down.

"There was a terrible fire."

Forten finally got Dareena away to the other side of the clearing and sat her down on a bench that was somehow undamaged. She was still shaking uncontrollably and he had someone bring her something to drink. She managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of strong dwarfish whiskey before the reality of _how_ her family must have died came to her and she staggered over to the nearest bush and started vomiting. Even after she stopped bringing up the whiskey the dry heaves kept her bent over the bush for a while before she sat down. This unpleasant business did serve to break her out of her shock to the point where she could think and reason again.

"I'm sure you have hundreds of questions," Forten said, leading her back to the bench and giving her some water to rinse her mouth with.

Dareena nodded shakily. "Are they all...?" She couldn't quite bring herself to say the word 'dead'.

Forten nodded sadly. Dareena felt her stomach heave but fought down the urge to bury her head into the bush again. Now was not the time to panic, she needed to figure out what happened and what she needed to do next.

"What happened?" she asked. "I can see that there was a bad fire in the kitchen, but why didn't they escape out the back passage?"

"I'm not quite sure of all the details," Forten told her. "The fire happened either late the day you left or early the next morning. As for why they didn't leave out the back, there was an earthquake the day before yesterday, which apparently collapsed several of the tunnels in the mountain. Frank came into town later that day and asked for some help to clear the tunnels that your family used. We told him that we could send over some help in a couple of days since it didn't seem urgent and we had several completely collapsed houses in the village. Frank said that waiting a few days would be fine, that it was only the back entryway that was completely filled in. Frank's visit was also how we knew where to find you. He told a few of his friends that you had left for Narnia to become a bard."

It made a chilling kind of sense. If only the rarely used back passageway was collapsed, then Frank would certainly consider people without a home having a higher priority. He couldn't have known that less than a day later the only other exit would become an inferno.

She didn't want to ask her next question, but she knew that if she didn't it would prey on her for the rest of her life. "How did the fire start?"

Forten sighed. "I don't know. It started in the kitchen and traveled to all the rooms, but it could have been an improperly banked fire in the kitchen. I didn't get here until the fire was entirely put out."

"Could someone have done this?" Dareena asked, thinking of the bandits that had burned another home only a month before.

"I don't know," Forten said. "By the time I got here, any tracks were long erased by the neighbors who saw the smoke and came to help put the fire out. It's possible, but unless someone admits to setting the fire, we may never know."

That wasn't the answer Dareena was hoping for. Now she regretted asking, since the uncertainty of knowing whether or not her family's deaths were an accident or murder would likely drive her mad.

A soot-streaked man came running up to Forten and started whispering in his ear. Dareena didn't even bother trying to hear what was being said, it simply didn't seem worth it. Forten turned to her and said, "I have to go and deal with something. I can't tell you what to do, but I wouldn't suggest looking at the bodies. Fire isn't a pretty way to die."

Forten hurried off with the other man and Dareena got to her feet and moved off towards the remnants of her home. Her feet took her to the blackened kitchen and she looked around. There were a few wooden supports still standing, but the roof had collapsed and everything in the kitchen was destroyed. She stepped on a fallen plate and it broke beneath her, adding another aspect of the destruction. She climbed over what was left of the kitchen table and started going through the caves. Little shafts of light came through from the kitchen but did nothing to dispel the darkness shrouding the rest of the series of caves that she had called home all of her life. She only got a few feet before realizing that without the hearth fires in every room, she would need some kind of light.

Numbly she left the kitchen and went to a small fire pit that the fire crew had left burning for heat and lit a small torch. Heading back into the caves, she went from room to room looking at the destruction, trying with all her might not to think about how each member of her family must have died there. She wondered why the fire had spread into the rest of the house since the walls were stone, but realized as her foot got tangled in a scrap of tapestry what the reason must be. The stone walls may not be able to burn, but the woven tapestries covering them would; as would the thick rugs, wooden furnishings, the raw wool in the work rooms and common areas. She comforted herself with the hope that the smoke may have killed her family before the actual fire. Her eyes fell on the charred and overturned cradle in the corner of the living room and everything suddenly became very real.

"_Oh, Aslan_," she thought. "_They really are dead_." She crumpled to the stone floor next to the cradle and started to sob. She wanted to scream out her pain but couldn't get the noise past the lump that swelled her throat. Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks until she could barely see past them. She reached out and tried to pull the heavy cradle to her, if only for something to hold. She couldn't get her arms around it, but the movement knocked free a small cloth doll, miraculously untouched amid all the damage. She recognized that little doll; she had made it for her niece when the baby had been born.

The tears that had slowed, started up again harder than ever until she could barely breathe. Oh, her niece! That wonderful, mischievous little baby, now gone forever. Fedara's unborn twins, dead before they had even lived to see the sun. Dareena's older sisters, ever annoying her with their twin idiosyncrasies of finishing each other's sentences and sometimes seeming as though they were one person instead of two. Fencara's husband who Dareena could remember running around the house like an idiot at his daughter's birth. Her mother, Asheena, beautiful and proud, always loving and affectionate when any of her children needed her. Norrin, calm and strong like an oak tree, always there when things got bad, ready to make everything seem less overwhelming with just a hug. Her Papa wouldn't be able to help her anymore. Franquea, sweet and giggly, always playing jokes until her victim would chase her around the house in frustration. Then there was Frank... Dareena had always been closest to her brother, both of them almost outsiders in the family, he as the only boy and she as the only one without a twin. He would never talk her into adventures again, or beg her for just another snack before dinner. None of them would.

They were all gone, all dead. They had left her behind.

Deep in her misery, Dareena didn't hear the footsteps behind her until Forten was at her side. She almost started when he knelt down beside her and held her close as she kept on sobbing. She couldn't seem to stop the tears that closed up her throat and made her gasp for breath.

Forten let her cry for a few minutes more, then said, "I know you need to cry, but I need your help right now. Fedara's husband has arrived and he saw the bodies, like you did. But, he's gone completely mad with grief and we can't get him to let go of his wife's body. We're afraid he's going to hurt himself if we can't get him calmed down. He won't listen to any of us, and he fights if we try and touch him or her."

Dareena tried to pull herself together and when her tears finally stilled Forten helped her to her feet and took her outside. There was a small crowd around the bodies and Forten pushed his way past the watching people so that Dareena could see what was going on. Fedara's husband had left to escort his mother from the capital city of Anvard to the family house so that Fedara could have her mother-in-law as well as her mother there for the birth of the twins. He had not been home when the fire had happened, but he was here now.

Dareena took in the sad sight of her brother-in-law holding one of the still, shrouded bodies to his chest and rocking it back and forth. She could tell it was Fedara's body because of the large pregnant lump that the sheet covering her outlined. He was making an odd keening noise like an animal in its last death throes and would not look at anyone. Dareena slowly walked towards the man, who gripped the body tighter when he comprehended her approach.

"Maton?" she said softly, trying to get through to him enough for him to listen to her. "It's me, Dareena." She slowly put her hand on his shoulder and he stiffened, but then relaxed when she did nothing further. "She's dead, Maton. Put her down. You aren't helping her like this. You need to put her down."

Maton turned haunted, bloodshot eyes to meet hers. "I don't understand? Why did this happen?" The words were so full of confusion and pain that Dareena started crying again.

"I don't know why." Dareena could barely force the words out. "I wasn't here for them either."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," Maton whispered.

Dareena bit her lower lip so hard it started to bleed. "Neither did I," she said, almost to herself.

Maton continued to weep, but slowly loosened his grip on his wife's body and let Forten take it from him. As soon as the body was out of sight, he seemed to crumple, and other hands came and lifted him to his feet and led him away. Dareena remained kneeling on the cold ground. She just wanted to find a secluded place to lie down and cry herself to sleep and pray that she would never wake up.

But, she did wake the next morning, to her disappointment. One of the villagers had found her leaning against a tree fast asleep from exhaustion and grief and had taken her to the nearest neighbor's house. At first she was highly confused by the strange surrounding's, but then the events that had destroyed her world came back to her and she closed her eyes again and just wished that she had died with her family. Before she could work herself up the neighbor saw that she was awake and spent the next hour fussing over her, making her take a hot bath and giving her clean clothes. Dareena basked in the normality of the situation and just let her mind focus on the now rather than the past or the future. She knew that that was the only way she would be able to get through the coming trials without going insane.

After she'd gotten cleaned up and had eaten, Dareena headed back to her ruined home. The bodies were still laying in the shade, but she knew that they needed to be buried and soon. She stood staring at the shrouded forms before her, hands itching to pull away the coverings and see the beloved faces one last time, but her mind kept her hands at her sides, knowing that if she saw them her mind would never forget the sight of what fire does to flesh.

Forten came to stand by her side. She noticed that he looked absolutely exhausted and she wondered if he had slept since he had found out about the fire or if he was simply as overwhelmed by the tragedy as she was.

"We weren't sure if the Narnian birds would find you in time," Forten said. "So I made plans to bury them on the other side of the clearing. Unless you would rather have them buried in the town graveyard?"

"No," she said. "Here is fine. They would be together."

Forten put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "I'll take care of everything, unless you want to do it yourself?"

"No, you had better handle it," Dareena said. "I wouldn't know what to do."

True to his word Forten handled all the details of the burial. As the frozen earth that had been laboriously cleared to form the graves fell back over the bodies of the only people on this earth that were her kin Dareena realized that she was alone. She had no home, no family, no extended family that she could cast herself upon and nothing to offer any stranger other than her talent at caring for a home. She had missed her opportunity to apprentice in Narnia when she had failed to rendezvous with Illone. She had nowhere to go.

Seeming to read her mind, Forten said, "We will find someplace for you to stay. There will be room in some home for another pair of hands. You won't starve."

Somehow those words didn't comfort her. As each member of the neighboring village came to give her their sympathies she started to get angry. Her family had never had a very good relationship with the townspeople. Most of them were pure-blooded Archenlanders and had always looked down on Asheena for her Calormen father. Dareena had grown up listening to the taunt of 'half-breed' being thrown at her mother whenever she went into town. Sick of being treated like a second- or even third-class citizen, Asheena simply stopped coming into town and would send her husband in for supplies. Norrin and the more Northern-looking of the children, like Frank, were tolerated, but since Dareena favored the Calormen side of her family, she never had any real friends among the townsfolk, simply polite acquaintances. As each haughty matron gave her cheek a pitying kiss the anger burned hotter until it nearly rivaled the inferno that killed her family. She kept her composure on a tight hold. She had to face the fact that she had nowhere else to go. She couldn't afford to alienate these people.

She was wandering around the clearing trying to eat some of the food that the villagers brought for the funeral feast, when her belief that she didn't have anywhere else to go was challenged.

The two gossiping women had not seen her. One was Forten's wife and the other was the wife of the local blacksmith.

"Such a tragedy," one of them said. "All of them dying at once! And those poor babies!"

"True," Forten's wife replied. "No child deserves to die like that. But, perhaps it's for the best this way. At least it killed them all instead of leaving more orphans to be a burden on the rest of us."

"Hana, how can you say such a thing?" the other woman gasped.

Hana gave a soft snort. "Oh, you can afford to be so high and noble! You aren't the one saddled with this tragedy's leftovers. Forten told me that we were going to be taking on the girl, Diddi or whatever her name is. I told him that I would not have that kind of a person in my house, influencing my children, but he got positively sharp with me and said that I didn't have a choice."

Dareena stilled completely except for her shaking hands. She longed to wrap her fingers around that slender neck and start to twist. The only thing holding her back was the knowledge that she wouldn't have enough time to kill the hag before someone would pull her off. She straightened her spine. She _did_ have a choice. She didn't care if it was hard, she would find somewhere else to go, even if she had to travel to the ends of the earth to find someplace where she would be more than simply tolerated.

Marching straight up to the two women, she smiled sweetly at Hana and then slapped her across the face as hard as she could! Everyone in the clearing stilled at the sound and turned to look at the confrontation.

"Thank you for your _kind_ offer of employment," Dareena said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and fury. "But I'm afraid you will find that it won't be necessary. I would sooner starve in an alley somewhere than take so much as a crust of bread from a sanctimonious witch like you!"

Dareena gave a little laugh. "I do suppose I should thank you, you at least waited until my family was completely buried before dragging their memory through the mud."

Turning on her heel, Dareena walked up to Forten who stood utterly shocked by this chain of events. "Thank you," she said, in a completely different and truly sincere tone. "You helped me when no one else would. Would you do me one more favor? Make sure that the graves aren't troubled?"

Forten nodded, still stunned silent.

Walking through the still and silent crowd, she went to the ruins of her family kitchen and picked up the still unopened pack that she had taken with her when she left only three days before and started off up the path to the road. She didn't care where she went as long as she didn't stay there.

No one followed her.

Anger was a fine stimulant, but it wore off quickly. She had gotten as far as the road that led all the way to Cair Paravel in the North, to the city of Tashbaan in Calormen to the South before she stopped and looked around her. It was one thing to say that she would rather starve, but another thing for it to be real. The winter snows were coming quickly and she needed to find someplace to live. The pain crashed down on her along with guilt. Why was she worrying about someplace to live? Her family didn't have that option.

A clump of snow fell from the tree she was sitting beneath into the back of her dress sending cold snow down her spine. Startled, she jumped to her feet and did an ungainly dance, trying to get the snow out. At any rate, she needed to make a decision. She couldn't stay at the crossroads forever.

It was down to one simple question: left or right? Right would take her to Calormen and her grandfather's people. She knew no one there, but with a country so large someone must need a willing pair of hands. She shook her head. Calormen was also the only country that had slaves. A young woman traveling alone would have to be very lucky to travel more than a few miles into the country before being snatched up and forced into bondage.

"_Narnia it is, then_" she thought dismally. She would go to Cair Paravel and see if Illone would still take her on. If he didn't, she would find some sort of employment, or, at the very least, an alley out of the elements in which to sleep. Anything was better than staying in Archenland. Picking up her pack again, she set off.

Cair Paravel. The capital city of the country of Narnia. It had taken Dareena six days to reach it. The winter snows had arrived early on the day after the funeral making the pass downright treacherous and slowing her progress to a crawl.

She was glad that she had decided where she was going, because achieving that goal seemed to be the only thing that kept her from curling up in a snowdrift and sleeping her way into death to join her family.

The worst part of the journey was that she traveled alone, with no one to talk with and nothing to occupy her mind but thoughts of everyone she had lost. Memories of her family warred with vivid nightmares of flames and screams. Each night she would lie down and imagine what that final night must have been like. The fear, the flames, the smoke... Falling snow would hit her face as she walked and mingle with the tears that never seemed to truly stop. Her melancholy thoughts fed on one another until she could barely think. The grief would slow her steps to a stop in the snow, until the cold and self-preservation drove her on.

The road was more passable once she was closer to the capital, but the snow was still up to her knees in places.

She came through the city gates into a bustle of people. The noise of conversation grated on her ears after six days of hearing no human noise other than her own sobs. She slowly started walking down the streets staring blank-eyed at all the people and the buildings around her. She had never been to any place bigger than the small village outside her home and knew that if she hadn't been so physically and emotionally numb she would be gaping in awe at the city before her.

She looked more closely at the people, who had started to notice her as well. With a sinking heart she saw mother's pull their children closer to their sides at the sight of her, and people passing giving her wary looks. Was Narnia going to be no better than Archenland? Was she going to be mistrusted and feared no matter where she went simply because she looked like a Calormene?

She didn't realize that the fear and distrust on the Narnian's faces was not from her darker hair and coloring, but from her appearance. She had been traveling for six days with few stops for anything other than sleep. Her eyes were bloodshot from weeping and the hopelessness and despair that had haunted her was reflected in her features. She looked desperate and hardened and it was no wonder that people pulled away.

She turned a corner and saw the great castle ahead. Built into the side of a tall cliff, the castle shone in the setting sun. Dareena stared up at it in a sort of numb relief and yet at the same time, dread and fear. Relief because she had made it this far. She was a little surprised at the fear that she felt. Why should she be afraid? This was what she'd always wanted! Then with a sickening lurch of her stomach she realized that she was wrong. This wasn't what she always wanted. Her singing was something she did with her family. She had learned to sing at her mother's knee. She enjoyed singing as a performer, but she sang best at home with the people that she loved.

Dareena looked up at the castle and murmured to herself, "I can't do this."

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter #1: Okay, I really want to know what people think about this chapter. Was it overdone? Not realistic? Please review and let me know.


	22. Chapter 22:Leona's Story: The Guardian

It took me forever to get back into the mood to write... (That and I was going through a Lord of the Rings kick so switching gears was a little troublesome.) But, here you go.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Leona's Story, the Guardian.

Dareena stared up at the castle of Cair Paravel, gleaming in the winter sun. She had just come to a monumental realization. She no longer wanted to sing. She had risked everything she cared about in a failed attempt to be the apprentice to the court bard of Narnia. She risked her family's displeasure, being left alone in a foreign country, and any other amount of danger along the way. But when the price was her family's lives, the cost was much too high. Her head told her to walk up the steps to the castle and ask for the court bard, Illone, and see if he would still take her on. Her heart looked back on the past couple of weeks and told her that it wasn't going to work. It felt as if her dreams were being handed to her on a platter, while someone yanked her world from beneath her feet when she reached for it. Intellectually, she knew that her family's death in a fire had nothing to do with her decision to leave and follow her dreams. But it still felt like fate forcing her to pay the price while never giving her what she was paying for.

People surrounding her on the streets started shooting her strange looks as she stood in the middle of the street looking up at the castle. Dareena noticed that she was drawing attention and quickly ducked into an alley to think.

Should she go, or not? She had gotten this far, why not go all the way? But, could she do it? Could she live the life of a musician, all the while feeling like her happiness was bought by fire and blood? Assuming she could even make herself sing anymore, who was to say that she would be able to meet the necessary standards to succeed? She opened her mouth to try to sing something, just to see if she could, but nothing came out. Her throat was still swollen from crying and a croak was the only sound her vocal cords could give her.

She knew that she couldn't go back to Archenland. Even if she would be able to swallow her pride and go crawling back, she didn't have anywhere to go. The only relative she had left was a brother-in-law that she didn't feel comfortable intruding upon. She sank down to sit on some old crates someone had piled in the alley and put her head in her hands.

All throughout her journey to Narnia she had obsessed over why she had lived when everyone else had died. She had often wished that she _had_ died alongside them, but she lacked the true desperation needed to seriously consider taking those final steps to end her own life. Was it chance, destiny, or simply happenstance that she had left and thus was spared the fate that they suffered?

Her thoughts were still whirling around in her head when a caterwauling commotion started heading her way and she looked up. Four cats ran into the alley, one leading the way while the other three chased it. The three cats cornered their victim against a wall and a chorus of spitting and hissing came from the felines. Dareena poked her head over the bins to see the fight, but when she saw that the poor tom was likely to be killed by his foes, she couldn't sit back and do nothing. She quickly packed a couple of snowballs from a drift beside her and lobbed them at the attackers. With furious hisses and mrows the three cats darted out of the alley, leaving their victim backed up against the wall, fur standing on end and tail fluffed to the size of a chimney-sweep's brush.

The tom slowly realized his attackers had fled, his fur settling down and his fighting mood dying. Cautiously, Dareena reached out a hand to the cat, hoping to discover whether it was a tame pet or just a stray. Slowly, the cat reached out a nose and sniffed her, then sneezed violently and shook his head. Dareena laughed, for the first time in weeks, and reached to pick the cat up. He was ginger colored and good sized but not unusually large. His thick fur felt welcomingly warm on her cold hands. She petted him for a moment then asked, "I wonder if you need to be returned to someplace or if I can just let you go? I suppose, after saving you, I can't just abandon you to the cold."

In response the cat turned big green eyes up at her and positively begged. She laughed again. "I can't keep you! I don't even have a home let alone a place to keep a cat."

"Well then, what earthly good are you?" the cat replied in a tone of exasperation. Dareena jumped and nearly dropped him.

"You talk," she said, rather stupidly.

The cat simply looked at her condescendingly, every hair and whisker positively oozing the reply of, _Now what ever could have given you that idea? _

"We _are_ in Narnia," the Cat said. "Haven't you ever heard of Talking Cats?"

Dareena bristled a little. "It wasn't my fault that I thought you were a normal cat. From what I know of Talking Animals none of them would just let themselves be cornered by three attackers and not call out for help!" She cocked her head a little, still looking at the feline in her arms. "Why didn't you call out, anyway? I think I have the right to know, having saved you and all."

The cat seemed to sag in her arms and heaved a sigh. "I do suppose I owe you an explanation. My name is Prowler, by the way, and I didn't call out because the last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. I'm rather in disgrace." Prowler looked downright embarrassed, if a cat can every truly appear embarrassed. "To be perfectly honest, I daren't show my face in public for fear of it being ripped off. So, I was pretending to be a dumb cat, and I was hoping to find some household that I could stay in until everything cooled down. Those louts found me first and thought I was intruding on their territory."

"What ever did you do to be in that much trouble?" Dareena asked, curious what the Cat possibly could have done to make him willing to masquerade as a lesser animal.

"Well," Prowler said, sheepishly. "I was a page at the castle, and I managed to break . . ." His voice trailed off and he muttered the last part of his sentence.

"I didn't hear you," she said.

Prowler shook his head miserably, and said again, louder. "I managed to break Queen Helen's mirror. The King was so angry he fired me, then he reported me to the leader of the Talking Cats, and _he's_ so angry I'm afraid he'll kill me for 'bringing shame on all Talking Cats with my clumsiness.' I ran off before he could shout much more than that."

"Oh, my! I suppose breaking the queen's mirror _is_ bad, but I'm sure she could find another one," Dareena said soothingly.

"No, no, no," Prowler said. "Not the queen's mirror, Queen_ Helen's _mirror. As in the first queen of Narnia, Queen Helen! It was a priceless heirloom!"

"Oh," Dareena said, in an entirely different tone. "You're right, you had better hide. This isn't something that would cool down in a hurry."

"That's what I think too. Just so you know, the current queen's name is Cora. You are not from around here are you?" Prowler asked.

So Dareena told her new friend all about the events that brought her the alley. Prowler turned out to be a very good listener. She had expected him to do something, cat-ish, like lick himself or go poking into corners, but he sat on her lap and calmly listened to her tale.

"You know, I wonder why I was spared," she said, tears still clogging her eyes. "I need to believe that there is something I still need to do, that my being left all alone wasn't just Fate playing a cruel trick at my expense. But, I just don't know what it could be."

Prowler nuzzled her comfortingly. "Don't worry, you will find your purpose someday. No matter how terrible things seem, we are always between Aslan's paws."

She gave him a small smile. "Between Aslan's paws . . . Sometimes I wonder if Aslan hasn't forgotten about the other countries. Narnia has always been his favorite. Sometimes Archenland can go for centuries between his visits, and I don't recall a tale of his ever appearing in Calormen! Sometimes I wonder if he even still exists."

Prowler sat up straight in indignation and started to tell her exactly what he thought of that blasphemous comment, but stopped suddenly and stared down the alley. Dareena turned to see what caught his attention, and stared as well, her mouth open in shock.

An enormous golden Lion sat a few yards away, calmly blinking at them, making no threatening movements, yet still giving an aura of wildness. Then, with a suddenness that nearly took her breath away, her surroundings changed. It was like a dream where you go from one place to another without realizing it. Dareena was certain that her feet had not left the ground, yet the earth moved around them.

In the blink of an eye, it was just her, Prowler, and the Lion in the middle of a clearing. The alley was gone, all of Narnia was gone. Even winter was entirely absent there, as the ground was free of snow and the air was warm and pleasant. The wooden crate that she had been sitting upon didn't leave the alley, however, and she landed with a bump on the grass. Prowler leapt from her lap and she scuttled backwards, trying to get more space between herself and the Lion. She got her back against a large rock and sat staring at the Lion, who stared back.

"Me and my big mouth," she muttered.

Surprisingly enough, Prowler made the first move and cautiously walked up to the Lion. Seeming to somehow recognize him, the small Cat joyously started rubbing up against the large golden legs and purred until Dareena thought his neck would fall apart from the vibrations. The Lion laughed, confirming her belief that this was no ordinary Lion.

"You are a courageous little thing, aren't you!" the Lion said to Prowler.

"Oh, it really is you, Aslan," the Cat said through his purrs. "I've waited for this moment my whole life."

"Most people do," Aslan replied.

Then Aslan turned his gaze on Dareena. She had risen to her feet upon seeing Prowler's greeting to the Lion.

"Do you know why I have brought you here, Daughter of Eve?" Aslan asked her.

Dareena shook her head.

"I want you to work for me," he said, simply.

"What?" was her stunned response. She hadn't had the time to even guess what Aslan might say, but, even if she had, she never would have expected this. "What would _you_ possibly need _me_ for?"

"Sit, and I'll explain everything."

She slowly sank back down to the grass and Aslan settled back on his haunches. "I have found that I need someone to be my . . . hands for lack of a better term . . . in the world. I need someone to be in a certain place at a certain time to set events into motion. I need people willing to do things for me, go on missions, to take care of things that I can not or will not be able to do myself. Believe it or not, I am limited in what I will actively do when influencing events in the world. I have been using many different people in many different places to do what must be done, but it would be so much easier if I had one person willing to do anything I need and be anything I need."

"And you think that I could be that person?" Dareena asked rather skeptically.

Aslan nodded.

"Why me?" she asked, bluntly. She had quickly gotten over her initial fright, but found she simply didn't have the energy to be overly polite, even to a Lion.

"You have many of the qualities that I require. You are young and strong. You are pretty, but not overly beautiful unless you put effort into it, which will enable you to either stand out or blend in as needed. You are half Narnian, a quarter Archenlander, and a quarter Calormen, but you favor your Calormen grandfather, making you appear as a half-breed. This will get you entry into any of the three countries, and while you may not be particularly welcome, you are at least tolerated. You are most importantly a quick learner, and able to improvise to achieve your goal. You are rather emotionally detached from others, but not to the point where you are callous, which is good and will keep you from loosing your perspective. You are courageous and keep your head in a crisis, even enduring your family's deaths without letting it break your mind. " Aslan finished this recitation and looked to Dareena for a response.

"It seems rather strange that I'm so perfect for this job," Dareena said. "You forgot to mention that, as I have no family, there is no one to miss me should I be gone for years on end."

Aslan gave a soft snort. "You are hardly perfect for this. You're stubborn, willful and careless of others at times. You have a poor memory for anything other than songs. You are also mentally lazy unless someone forces you to think!" The Lion fixed an eye on Dareena warningly. "That _will _be remedied . . ."

Aslan continued, much to Dareena's increasing discomfort. "You have no experience with cities or politics and whilst you can read, write and figure, your talents in those areas are far from the best. However, you have much potential. You are willing to learn, if you are only given the teachers and the time. That brings me to another matter. To become everything I need will take decades, even centuries. There will be times when I will demand something of you that you will not be able to perform on your own. I promise you that you will be given everything you need to complete any task I set you to, but no amount of training will make you into a real warrior. You have no natural ability to fight magic with magic. You will need guidance to do what needs to be done at the correct time. It is at those times when you must set your own will aside and allow me to take over your body and give you everything you need. That is what will truly take time, because it is not in human nature to easily bend to another's will. I expect it to take centuries before you are truly comfortable with letting me in and out of your mind and body at will."

"There is only one problem with that," Dareena pointed out. "I'm mortal. I'm only likely to live another fifty years at most!"

"There is an apple, which when stolen only brings suffering, but when given . . ." Aslan moved his paw and Dareena saw an apple sitting on the ground by the Lion's feet. It was silver and almost glowed with its own inner light. "When given by one who has a right to pluck it, it will bestow immortality on the one who eats it. If you agree to do this, you will eat the apple."

Dareena looked at the apple, then at Aslan. "How does it work? Would I be still be able to be killed or will it just stop me from dying of old age? Will I still age physically and spend eternity old and infirm?"

"All the apple does is suspend time for you. You will not die of old age, though you still can be killed. It will make you immune to poison and anyone wishing to kill you will find it harder than anticipated. You will also stay the same physical age you are now." Aslan looked her in the eye. "Do not be deceived; immortality comes with a cost. You would have to watch friends grow old and die, and know that each time you become connected to someone this will happen."

"What exactly would I do? You said that you would send me on missions to do your will, but what would those entail, and how would I make sure that I was doing the right thing on those missions?" Dareena was interested in spite of herself, but there were far too many unanswered questions.

"Much of your work would be as a catalyst. You would introduce two people who need to meet. Eventually you will be sent to stop rebellions, or start them. At other times you will need to be at a crossroads to guide a hero on the right path, I may send you to rescue someone, or just protect a person or object. At times you will more closely resemble a spy. Ultimately, you help me guard this world and thus you would be known as the Guardian should I ever need to refer to you when talking to others." Aslan gave a little shrug. "As for how you will know if you are headed in the right direction, I will guide you. You will feel me in your head, nudging you to know my will. Consider yourself lucky; most must be content to understand my will on their own!"

"Will I always be on missions or will I have time of my own? What should I do then?"

"There will be many times when I will have no need of you," he said. "During those times you will do whatever you wish. However, I must warn you: during those times you will have no more claim on my attentions than anyone else. While on missions for me, I will do my utmost to ensure that you succeed. This protection will not be available during the times you are between missions. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"You shall need an occupation," he said. "My personal suggestion would to become a traveling bard. You already have the voice and talent for it and the traveling will help hide the fact that you do not age. That will help you on your missions as well. A bard is the only person who would be welcomed equally in the lowest huts and the greatest palaces."

She looked uncomfortable. "I don't know if I can do that, sir," she said. "Ever since the fire, I haven't wanted to sing at all, and I'm not even sure if I can make myself do it!"

Aslan came to stand beside her and comfortingly nuzzled her hair. It felt like being wrapped in a warm embrace that never ended. "You will find your voice again, dear one, and will sing out all the more beautifully for its absence." The very feeling of comfort that he offered inspired her to daringly reach up and tangle her fingers in his mane.

Dareena hastily wiped a few stray tears away and brought her mind back to business. "Will I have to be the Guardian forever? What if I fall in love or want to stop?"

"You will swear no oath to me unless you wish it, and should you truly fall in love, you will be allowed to set aside your position and stay and age with him, becoming a mortal again." Aslan gave her a final nudge with his nose. "Unless you have other questions, I will leave you to think on it. If you decide to decline my offer, I will take you back to Cair Paravel and you may live your life as you wish. If you decide to accept, eat the apple. I will return for your answer shortly."

Aslan rose and padded off to a grove of trees a short distance away and disappeared among them, leaving the apple sitting on the grass where he had stood.

Dareena put her head in her hands and thought hard. Oh, heavens, what a decision! She had nothing waiting for her back in Narnia except uncertainty and a life as a singer that she may not even be able to achieve. Aslan's offer was so overwhelming! It was an opportunity to do so many things that she never would have even dreamed possible. But, it was such a tremendous commitment . . . There would never be room in her life for 'just me.' Everything she did would be at the command of the Lion. She may need to fight or be involved in armed conflict, so she wouldn't necessarily be safe. If she somehow made a mistake it would have consequences far beyond what little Dareena the weaver's daughter could foresee.

Would it be worth it? She thought of everything that she could do. She would have all the time in the world to learn and discover. She would have a hand in historical events and see the world change before her. She would watch people grow old and fade, but she would still meet them and know them.

She started, her heart suddenly racing as something furry tried to crawl into her lap.

"Prowler! I'm so sorry, I forgot you completely! Were you here listening for all of that?" Dareena asked.

Prowler nodded. "I couldn't think of anywhere to go, so I just stayed out of the way. I did hear everything though."

"What do you think I should do?" she asked.

"Well, I'm a Talking Beast and if it was me, it would be enough that he wants me to do it and I'd give anything to be able to be of such assistance. But things are different for humans. They have a stronger will and are less connected to him sometimes. I can't really advise you," Prowler said apologetically. "All I can say is that it is an unspeakable honor for him to offer this to you. There are other people out there who would willingly die to be offered the chance to serve Aslan in this fashion. But those other people aren't you. Are you willing to serve him? I guarantee that you could never find a better master!"

"You're right," she mused. "I've never encountered him before this, and no one I've ever met has either. Every story I've heard says that while he may not be tame, he is good. Somehow, I know that he would never endanger me without good reason, and that I can trust that he won't let me fail unless I bring failure down upon myself."

Dareena reached over and picked up the apple. "It's just that I've always hated being alone, and this sounds so incredibly lonely. Having to go through the centuries never having a constant companion and watching others make their matches and families without ever having one of my own again would be . . . But, I suppose that I'm not guaranteed that even if I say no."

She heard the sound of heavy paws in front of her and saw Aslan walking back towards her. Gently tipping Prowler off her lap, she rose and faced the Lion.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and said, "I'll do it. I'll serve you and be whatever you need me to be. I'll come when you call, go when you bid, and do what you wish. I will be the Guardian."

Aslan gave a nod and she could tell he was pleased at her answer. "Then eat the apple, Daughter of Eve."

Her lips trembled a little from nervousness as she carefully took a bite. The apple was delicately sweet and juicy. She felt the tiredness and aches from her journey fall away with every bite. It was surprisingly filling and she had only finished three quarters of it before she felt completely full.

"Do I need to finish it?" she asked.

Aslan shook his head. "Even one bite would have been enough." Then he turned to Prowler. "It is time to take you back home, now, little one."

"Please, sir," Prowler said, pleadingly. "Let me stay with her!"

Dareena nearly dropped the rest of the apple in shock. What on earth?

"This is a job that is mighty indeed and extra paws could be helpful. I will do whatever is needed. You said that she will be a spy at times. I've always hated my size but now the fact that I'm so much smaller than other Talking Cats would be an advantage. I could go places even a human could not and no one would think that I'm anything other than a normal mouser." Prowler looked back at Dareena. "And she needs someone to look after her until she's gotten her fur licked down proper."

"You don't need to do this, Prowler," Dareena said. "I know I said I'll likely be lonely, but don't you want to go back to your family?"

Prowler gave her a rather incredulous look. "I'm a _cat!_ I don't even know how many brothers or sisters I may have. Besides, I do them far more good by helping you than I would by banging around at home getting underfoot." He turned back to Aslan. "Please, let me help, too."

Aslan gave a great Lion's laugh. "Oh, little cousin, you have convinced me. I feel that you will be of great assistance in the years to come. You, too, will have to eat of the apple. Do you wish to be a stranger to time and never feel his touch, but have to watch him lay his hand on others?"

Prowler straightened and sat up as primly as possible and looked positively dignified. "If that is the price I must pay then so be it."

Aslan turned to Dareena. "Give him the rest of the apple."

Dareena obeyed and the Cat daintily finished off the fruit.

"Come with me," Aslan said. "I have something to show you." Dareena picked Prowler up in her arms and followed the Lion to the edge of an unbelievably high cliff. Stretching out before her was the world in all its entirety. She gasped and made to take a step back, but stopped herself before she did. She needed to start getting into the habit of trusting Aslan not to let her come to harm.

"This is your charge," he said. "Every creature, both speaking and dumb, every rock, tree, lake and stream is under your guardianship. You will never be alone in this. I will always be guiding you. I have every confidence that you will succeed. You start a new life today, leaving behind everything that you were."

Dareena could barely breath for the glory of the view before her. She looked over the land that was now her responsibility until either Aslan released her or the world ended. "I don't even feel like Dareena anymore, but somehow it doesn't frighten me."

Aslan chuckled. "You have the heart of a lioness."

"Then I shall be called Leona," she whispered.

TBC...

Author's note for chapter: I know it may seem long-winded, but almost every bit of dialog between Aslan and Leona is important, so even if you just skim you may want to read that part. Please review and let me know if it all made sense!!


	23. Chapter 23:Leona's Story: Training

10-1-07 Many thank-you's to elecktrum for becoming my new beta and looking over some of my older chapters! Thanks!

My muse has run off to Tahiti and is refusing to return until the weather here gets nicer. I can't really blame her, (anyplace that can be warm sunny weather in the morning and _snowing_ by afternoon is just wrong...) but she's been kind enough to send postcards so you get at least a little bit! This chapter is more a series of clips than an actual chapter, so if it seems disjointed that's why, it's more of a bridging chapter than anything. More will be upcoming when my muse returns.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Twenty-three: Leona's Story, Training

The first place Aslan took Leona to was a small clearing in a wooded forest. Prowler stayed behind in the land at the edge of the world. When Leona asked why the cat wasn't coming with her, Aslan simply replied, "He will have no need to learn the things that you are to be taught. He will do his own learning elsewhere. He is a cat, he will be there when he is needed."

There was a wooden cottage in the clearing and the sound of an ax chopping wood came from the other side. With Leona following behind, Aslan walked towards the sound and as they turned the corner, Leona saw the man who would be her first teacher.

He was tall and burly, with piercing eyes, and when he saw Aslan he immediately put down the ax and bowed.

"My lord!" the man exclaimed. "You are most welcome. How may I be of assistance?"

"Darco," Aslan said. "You are the best fighter in the world, even if you no longer like to fight for a living. I need you to teach this girl. "

Seeing this as her cue, Leona stepped forward and gave a little curtsy. Darco looked her up and down, rather skeptically.

Turning to Aslan he said, "I've tried to be a good man, what evil have I done to be given such an impossible task! With all the time in the world, I could never teach her all I know and expect her to be able to do it! She's not even big enough to wield most of the weapons I use!"

Aslan laughed. "Be at ease, I don't want you to teach her everything you know! Quite the opposite in fact. I want her to know just enough to be able to escape from an attacker, but not so much as to have unusual reflexes. Formally, I want her to know how to use a dagger, and a bow, but I want her to be able to use anything as a weapon. However, she must not appear to be more than she seems. She will need to be able to blend into any situation and a woman her size being a more-than-capable warrior would be out of place. If she is in a situation requiring more talent, I will assist her." With that, Aslan vanished, leaving Leona and Darco in the clearing.

Darco gave her another, still skeptical but more hopeful look. "Well, lass," he said. "Let's get started."

After several months spent learning fighting from Darco, Leona spent several years in various libraries and schools throughout the world learning politics, the histories of the three countries, and other similar subjects. A hermit in the Shuddering Wood taught her about the different Narnian species, like Fauns, Satyrs and Dwarves. A reformed thief in Archenland taught her how to pick pockets, detect forgeries in letters, and even how to pick locks. A widowed matron in Cair Paravel showed her how to use makeup and wigs to disguise herself, even making Leona appear as old as a shriveled crone! Leona had a marvelous time wandering the city in her various appearances, learning how to act according to each outfit and 'face'.

It was a very healing time for her. Busy with the new duties she had and the new things she needed to learn, there was very little time to dwell on what she had lost. In fact, after a while it almost seemed as though the fire and all the events leading up to her taking the position of the Guardian happened to someone else. But every so often she would see something that would remind her of her family and the grief would come back.

She learned to see the people and the lands she was to help protect and guide in a different way than she was used to. Aslan encouraged her to look at the countries as people in and of themselves. Even though each individual being living there had a separate personality and nature, each country had its different aspects and values that it could be generalized by. Narnia was gentle, her people liked spending time in peace and joy, content to live generation after generation in happy simplicity. That did not mean that she was in any way weak or unobservant of her borders, as her foes quickly learned. While slow to anger, once roused Narnia's wrath was swift and skilled. Archenland was much like Narnia, but it held more value in cunning and cleverness. Her people were boisterous and fun loving, relishing a challenge of any kind. She was also impulsive and easily roused to anger and war. Calormen was harsher, and her people were far more nomadic and warlike. There was a nobility in Calormen and a deviousness that was balanced only by the inability of her people to get along with each other. Fighting was a way of life in Calormen instead of a last resort as it was in Narnia. There was a harsh beauty in that desert land and a strength that came from pitting human flesh against the elements and its fellow man. Calormen was easily swayed to evil, but could also be trusted upon to rise to any challenge. Each country had its own heartbeat and rhythm and Leona learned to love them, though Narnia earned a special place in her heart for its nobility and beauty.

_Fifty years later_

Leona had traveled all over the known world by the time that Aslan deemed her outside learning complete. The slightly timid, naïve and uneducated girl that had been plucked from the back alley of Cair Paravel was gone. The woman in her place was poised and confident in her own abilities and talents. The smile came more easily to her lips and the pain that was so evident when she last stood on the high cliff top on the edge of the world was hidden, if not completely healed.

Aslan sat surveying her as she wandered the clearing softly singing to herself. As Aslan had promised, she indeed found her voice again and even found herself composing songs. She had truly come a long way from the grief-ravaged girl who had first entered this clearing over fifty years before, even though she had not physically grown a day older.

Aslan called her to his side, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.

"You are nearly ready for the final part of your training," Aslan said. "This last is the hardest part. You must learn to accept my presence in your mind and guiding your actions. Do not expect this to be a quick process. I fully expect it to take years if not decades before you are comfortable with it. In a way, it is almost a form of possession and as such is very hard to adapt to and accept. It will be very difficult at first, but I need to be able to slip in and out of your mind at will. Are you ready to try?"

Leona nodded a little uncomfortably and asked, "What do I need to do?"

"Simply sit there for now," the Lion said. "Then, when you feel my presence in your head, let go of your will and let me direct your actions."

_That doesn't sound too incredibly difficult,_ she thought, leaning back against Aslan's side. Then she felt something, a tickling in her head that grew into a pressure, as though she had gone too far up a mountainside. Suddenly, there was _someone _in her mind, a presence that was not necessarily threatening, but still overwhelmingly foreign and terribly frightening. It tried to settle into her mind, but defenses she didn't know she had started to fight it, and she mentally shouted _No! Get out, get out!_ The presence immediately slipped away and left her alone in her head.

She threw herself away from the lion and sat shaking on the grass, breathing hard. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know it was only you, but..."

"Now you understand why I said that this will take a very long time," Aslan replied, not at all upset or concerned. "The relationship between the mind and the body is like that of a horse and its rider. What I am trying to do is take the mental reins from your hands and direct the 'horse' myself. That is not at all a comfortable position to be in, particularly until you get used to it. Once you are capable of allowing me into your mind even if I don't actually direct your actions, then I will start sending you on missions."

_Fifty years later_

Aslan was right, it did take a very long time for Leona to build up the trust to let him into her mind and take over her body. Several decades in fact. Personally, she thought that it would have happened a lot sooner if Aslan would try more than once or twice a year. It seemed as though he was waiting for her to grow in wisdom and to gain the self-confidence needed to let go of her own body. Now she knew that she could take up the reins again once Aslan was finished with whatever needed doing.

"Now that you can allow me into your mind, you are ready to be the Guardian," Aslan told her. Prowler sat by her feet, having just shown up the day before ready to get to work and surprisingly closed-mouthed about what he had been doing for the last hundred years.

"We will start with something small. I doubt I will need to actually take over your body. You should be able to handle anything that comes up," he said.

Without another word, the world blurred and Leona found herself and Prowler in the middle of a crowded marketplace in what looked to be Narnia. Aslan was nowhere to be seen.

"Talk about sink or swim," Leona heard Prowler mutter.

Leona laughed. "Well, let's look around a bit until we know what we are here for."

The two wandered around the marketplace for a while looking at the wares for sale and waiting for a mental nudge from Aslan. Leona saw a beautiful necklace in a stall and stopped to look at it. Prowler walked on ahead, and was lost to view within a moment. She wasn't worried, he would turn up eventually and she doubted that he'd be left behind if Aslan whisked her away in a hurry. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a woman going from one group of people to another asking something then hurrying on when her query was met with a negative reply. She looked highly upset and almost frantic. Leona made to go and ask her what was the matter when the sign she was waiting for happened.

It wasn't a voice in her head or even the pressure that heralded Aslan taking over her body, simply a knowledge that she needed to go find Prowler, _now_. Turning away from the woman, Leona started down the street in the direction that she had last seen the cat. Looking under tables and on top of windowsills she could not find the feline anywhere. Finally she turned down a darker alley, thinking she saw a flick of a ginger tail.

Something told her to walk quietly. As she crept around some rubbish she realized that she'd found the cat. Prowler had apparently made a friend, and an enemy as well. The cat was being held tightly to the chest of a little girl, only about five or six years old. She was silently crying as she dodged the hands of a man who was reaching for her with a bag in one hand.

"Hold still, you little brat," the man said. "I'm not going to hurt you. All your daddy has to do to get you back is give me what I want."

Leona reached down and picked up a large chunk of wood. "Hey, what are you doing to that child?"

At the sound of her voice the ruffian turned, and as he did so, Leona hit him as hard as she could over the head with the makeshift club. He dropped like a stone. The little girl stopped trying to run and looked up at Leona with tears still running down her cheeks. Leona dropped the club on the ground next to the unconscious kidnapper and held out a hand to the child.

"It's all right now," she said. "Let's find your mother and get you home."

Prowler wriggled out from the child's arms and she slipped one small hand into Leona's. With the cat leading the way, they left the alley and entered the bright street. Leona looked up and down the marketplace for the worried woman she had seen a moment before. Something told her that what the woman was looking for had a small hand in hers.

Sure enough, the woman came into view again, this time with tears of dismay and frantic worry running down her face. Leona bent down to the little girl's level, and pointed to the other woman. The girl dropped Leona's hand and ran to the other lady, who caught her up in her arms with a glad cry.

"Oh, Terina, there you are! I was so worried," the woman exclaimed. She settled the girl onto her hip and started making strange gestures with her free hand. Leona suddenly understood why the little girl had not cried out for help. She was mute. Terina started gesturing back at her mother and soon the lady came up to Leona and Prowler to thank them.

"Thank you so much," the mother said. "That man was a useless employee of my husband's and he was fired a few weeks ago. We never thought that he would ever do something like this. Thank Aslan you were there."

Leona felt rather uncomfortable. She hadn't really done anything that anyone else couldn't have done. She made a few non-committal remarks and quickly excused herself. Once she and Prowler had gotten to a quiet place she turned to speak to the Cat, but saw Aslan standing behind them. With another dizzying blur she and the two felines, large and small, were all back in the clearing at the world's edge.

"Well done," Aslan said.

Leona turned to him, rather confused. "But I didn't do anything special. I won't deny that it was important, but why was I needed there? Wouldn't someone else have come along?"

Aslan did not answer her questions, but said, "You followed the promptings I gave you, saw the situation and acted accordingly."

"It seemed a little anti-climactic," Leona said. "I was thinking that I'd be going on wild adventures. All of that training in everything from spying to swordplay, and I was using a club to hit a petty thug. Not that I'm complaining mind you, it's just not what I was expecting."

"I challenge you to tell that mother that it was anti-climactic," Aslan chided mildly. "But, you need to understand that I will never put you to a task that is not important, even if the reason why is not immediately visible. Now, you may wander the world as you will, until I need you again. If you ever are tired of wandering and want to come to me, meet me at the Lamppost in the Lantern Waste. I will know you are there, and come to you."

As their surroundings shifted again, depositing them back in the marketplace, Leona turned to Prowler. "Why didn't you call out for help? You are a Talking Cat."

Prowler gave her a dirty look. "I couldn't. That child was holding me so tight I couldn't breathe let alone shout..." Leona started to laugh, and Prowler stalked off, tail held high in affronted dignity.

Leona didn't understand what Aslan had meant about none of her missions being unimportant until fourteen years later, when little mute Terina wed the second son of the King of Narnia. Rarely did she ever again question that Aslan knew what he was doing.

Over the centuries Leona's missions varied. Some were short, lasting only minutes, others took years or decades to complete. She spied on treacherous lords, and started rebellions to take down evil rulers. She traveled the world, but spent quite a lot of her time in Narnia and Archenland simply singing as a bard, going from one community to the next learning songs and composing new ones. Whenever she got tired, grief-sore, or just needed a rest, she would go to the lamppost and curl up to sleep at its base, always waking up in the clearing at the end of the world.

Prowler came and went as he pleased, traveling with her at times and going his own way at others. He was right when he had told Aslan he would be able to go places even Leona could not and had often retrieved valuable information, simply because the enemy did not know he could talk.

She learned several important things about her immortality. Firstly, it helped her memory not a whit. She still couldn't remember where she left her shoes the night before and after a few years had passed the details of the missions she had been on started to fade. Oh, she could still recall them if she tried, but unless something was very important, she wouldn't remember it. Aslan always made sure that if she needed information of some kind, she would know it. The only thing that she never forgot was the loss of her family. Christmas was never a truly happy time for her, no matter what she was doing or who she was with. It seemed like that turning point in her life was burned into her memory like a brand. The wound may have healed, but the scars always remained.

The world can never stay the same, however. Good and evil always fight for supremacy, sometimes on a small level, other times on a larger. The White Witch attacked Narnia and actually won. Leona was in Calormen at the time and when she had rushed back, the borders had already been magically sealed. There was nothing she could do except wait for Aslan to do something himself.

When the hundred years of winter finally ended with the defeat of the White Witch and the establishing of a new royal line in Narnia, Leona was sent to Calormen. She rarely entered Narnia during the reign of the Kings Peter and Edmund, and Queens Susan and Lucy. She briefly met King Peter, but quickly forgot him again as just one in a long string of missions.

A little over a hundred years after the four rulers vanished into thin air, Aslan took her aside.

For once he came straight to the point. "Things will soon happen that you must stand aside and watch. You will want nothing more than to interfere, so I'm offering you a choice. I can send you to another world for a short while, or you can stay and observe what must happen."

Leona looked at the Lion, bewildered. "What are you saying? Do you want me to leave?"

"Evil must happen in order for good to prevail. It is time for darkness to win for a while. There are many other worlds; you remember that I sometimes summon children from one of them. I am offering you a chance to see another world for a few weeks. Your other option is to stay in this world and watch," Aslan was completely serious.

"Well, you know how much I hate seeing a wrong that I can't fix, so..." Leona trailed off. "What would I need to do in this other world?"

"Simply learn about it," Aslan said. "Learn how the people live, what they do, their history. Consider it a test of your ability to blend into strange surroundings."

So, when she woke up in a church in a place called London, she simply learned. The 'nuns' who took her in thought her simple-minded and that she had lost her memory and were happy to loan her books to read and newspapers to look at. It boggled Leona's mind what things these people invented, both wonderful and terrible. The country was in the middle of a bloody, widespread war using weapons that she'd never even imagined could exist. But in many ways, it was still much like home. Foods were similar, and the language was the same, for the most part. She felt that she could make a life here someday if she had to.

Within three weeks she was settled into the small convent she was staying at and had learned much about this strange new world and had even taken to walking throughout the enormous city. But she couldn't help but worry about what was happening at home. It may be easier not to know, but the knowledge that something bad was happening to Narnia preyed on her mind.

Sure enough, when Aslan called her back a week later, she found that the Telmarines had invaded Narnia, killed many of the non-human residents and drove the rest into hiding for fear of their lives. Aslan and Prowler had to endure a furious rant on the stupidity, selfishness, thoughtlessness and cruelty of mankind. (Never mind that she was human herself and had seen many examples throughout the centuries of the wisdom, selflessness, thoughtfulness and gentleness of mankind as well.) She simply wasn't in the mood to be sensible and it took Aslan giving her several challenging missions before she could work off her frustrations. She did admit that it was better not having to watch. Aslan nobly refrained from saying, "I told you so."

After that, things rather got back to normal. Leona would go on the same sort of missions that she had done for centuries. As time passed Aslan's other-worldly helpers came and went without her ever encountering them, which she was rather disappointed by. She wanted to find out what they were like and if they were anything like her. But, somehow their paths never crossed. Life moved on, her earlier missions faded into mere memory and it seemed like Narnia would go on forever.

It was the Narnian year 2436, eighty-one years since the reign of King Caspian the Seafarer, and one thousand, eight hundred and fifty-seven years since Aslan had first made her the Guardian, when the bottom fell out of her world and her faith was given its hardest test yet.

TBC...

Author's note for chapter: For those of you wondering what year Leona would have come to England in, this first time, it's 1941. It's in between the end of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian. She does not meet any of the Pevensies, and simply learns about England, which is why she's so good at blending into it in her later visit.

I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but don't be too surprised if it takes another month. Don't forget to review!!!!


	24. Chapter 24: Leona's Story: Rebellion

10-2-07 Many thanks to elecktrum for becoming my new beta and taking a look at some of the older, un-betaed chapters!

Sorry for the long delay, not only has my Narnian muse still refused to show her face, I've been highly distracted by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End coming out in theaters... Very highly distracted, in fact I'd seen it four times before it had even been out for more than 72 hours... and I'm already agonizing over what they will have for deleted scenes on the DVD and plotting out my first POTC fanfiction. Arrrr!!! Yes, I know, I really need a social life but if I had one, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfiction. But, back to the world of the Lion and Leona...

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Leona's Story: Rebellion

The streets of Tashbaan were noisy and dirty as always, but while the woman walking up and down them selling slightly over-ripe fruits didn't seem to notice the filth, she was inconspicuously paying close notice to the noise. In between her calls of "Fresh fruits!" she was listening. Not for anything or anyone in particular, but simply letting her ears skim over the conversations around her, like the eye can skim over a crowd taking in all of the faces and truly acknowledging none of them, unless one warranted a second glance. She was listening for certain words, tones of voice, and the unmistakable body language of discontent. She was listening for the seeds of rebellion.

Centuries of experience helped Leona move through a crowd without being noticed as anything unusual, and her manner never slipped as she would sidle closer to a group of turbaned and bearded men complaining over their drinks, then listen to the idle gossip of the matrons filling their water jars at the well.

All day she wandered the marketplace, selling her fruits and listening, getting the feel of the people's opinions and moods. At sundown, she slipped down an alleyway and into the poorer areas of the city, cutting through gaps between buildings and ducking under fences with the air of someone who knows where they are going and the swiftest way of getting there.

She stopped in the shade of a ramshackle building and sat down on a crate to wait. She didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes a ginger tom cat slunk out of the shadows, sauntered up to her and with one graceful leap, jumped into her lap. She started to pet him automatically.

"Well," she asked the feline in her lap. "What did you learn?"

Arching his back under Leona's hands Prowler replied quietly, "Three more missing people. A young boy and two young women were arrested by the Tisroc's men and taken to the temple. They haven't come out and no-one in the temple has seen them among the servants."

Leona looked pensive. "Another three, and taken in broad daylight under flimsy pretense. The High Priest is getting bold."

Prowler looked up at her. "I'm getting very nervous about this whole situation. This is the first time we've ever gotten this involved with important events without Aslan's bidding or guidance. Don't you think if he wanted us here he'd have given some clue that we were doing what he wished?"

Leona didn't respond for a minute. It was true that there had been no mental nudge or instruction from Aslan for quite a while, ten years in fact. She and Prowler had been living in various parts of Calormen for over a decade now, either singing for their supper or working odd jobs wherever they found their feet landing. She hadn't needed Aslan's mental nudge to know that Calormen was on the verge of another potentially bloody uprising. She saw the signs when the Tisroc started taking more and more advice from the High Priest of Tash, and the advice became more and more punitive towards the people. Harsher punishments for lesser crimes, the Tisroc taking on less and less of the leadership of the country as the High Priest willingly took over the more onerous tasks. The fact that the High Priest of Tash was ostentatiously working behind the scenes was what truly disturbed Leona. Events in a regular uprising didn't need her help. Calormene warriors managed to kill each other very well without any encouragement, but when Tash was involved in any way the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

Tash was a demon of sorts, the antithesis of Aslan but far less powerful and far more limited in how he could affect the world. He fed off of pain, fear, despair and unwilling sacrifice. His influence was limited to Calormen unless invited elsewhere, and he rarely took physical form. He ruled his land through his priests, who were known to be cruel, manipulative and evil. The sacrifices he demanded varied throughout time, but blood was always involved in some way. Rarely were human victims demanded, but Leona was all but certain that the poor people taken to the temple in the last few months weren't press-ganged to scrub the floors. She found it odd that Aslan hadn't sent her any indication of his wishes for this situation. Usually he had her up to her neck in anything Tash was involved in simply because the Guardian was the only one capable of channeling enough of Aslan's power to make a difference.

"I don't know why Aslan hasn't involved himself yet, but that doesn't mean that we aren't still doing the right thing," Leona told Prowler. "I couldn't have lived with myself as a person if I'd just stood back and done nothing when Tash's priest was taking over. Maybe Aslan knows what we are doing and is just letting us do it. He'll guide us when we need it. He always does."

Prowler sighed. "Maybe you're right. At any rate we're already involved so you might as well report to the prince what's going on." With that comment, the cat jumped off her lap and started into the alley. Picking up her empty fruit basket, Leona followed him until they both came to another ramshackle house and, without knocking, entered.

The young man sitting at the wooden kitchen table looked up as she entered and set her basket down by the door.

"I hope you weren't seen coming here," he said, rather arrogantly.

The young woman sitting next to him rolled her eyes. "It's her house, Daronon. I should think it would attract more attention if she crept in quietly."

The man looked suddenly sheepish. "Sorry, Leona. That's the problem with having these meetings in so many different places. I have a horrible time remembering who lives where."

Leona chuckled softly. Crown Prince Daronon wasn't the finest candidate for kingship she'd ever encountered, but when the other option was letting Calormen be taken over by Tash's priest, she was willing to work with what was available. One of his redeeming features was his good sense to fall desperately in love with the woman at his side. Even if she was only a merchant's daughter, Adara had more than enough common sense to be able to run a kingdom and enough love for Daronon to be willing to try it. Most of the people Leona had ever met that had enough common sense to competently run a kingdom, also had enough sense not to want to...

Over the next few minutes more people showed up at Leona's door and she would let them in exclaiming happily how glad she was to see them and asking them loudly how they were doing. Over the years she had found that if you wanted to have meetings that didn't attract attention, simply have a "party". Nosy neighbors could find much to gossip about with silent and stealthy comings and goings, but the occasional party attracted no notice unless it got too rowdy late at night.

Once all the conspirators were present, the prince started asking for reports. One man in a fisherman's hat told of disgruntled whisperings among the marketplace at the new taxes and required religious tithes. Another man spoke of people speaking out against the High Priest suddenly leaving town in a frightened hurry. Around the table it went, each person telling of complaints, kidnappings or other ill deeds being done in the Tisroc's name by the High Priest's men. Finally, a rough looking man with the bearing of a soldier reported that the men he'd been training for the uprising were nearly ready, with the only thing needed was a time and place to strike.

For all the talk very little truly got done during that meeting. The prince was quiet and seemed to be filing away each story in his head, the better to catalog them later. After everyone else had left Daronon and Adara still sat at the kitchen table.

"Leona," Daronon said slowly. "What do you know about magic?"

Leona stilled. Daronon knew her only as a woman with a better than average group of informants and a good head for planning. All her experience with uprisings over the centuries was completely unknown to anyone except her and Prowler.

"What do you mean?" she asked, hesitantly.

"I think there may be something wrong with my father," the prince said softly.

Leona almost snorted. Of course there was something wrong with the Tisroc. He was a bloody idiot who was stupid and lazy enough to let his advisers actually run the show without interference.

"I think he's under a spell," the prince continued. _This_ perked Leona's interest. She made a motion for him to continue explaining.

"The High Priest has been quietly keeping me from seeing him privately, and whenever I do see him, it's as though he isn't truly there. He acts like a puppet or a doll. It sends chills up my back when I look in his eyes, because it's as though they are dead. I don't know of anything that could do that, but I'm hoping you may know someone who would." The prince's rendition of his father's condition did nothing to ease her mind. Unfortunately, she had a horrible feeling she knew what was happening.

"I can't say for sure," she said slowly. "But, Tash's priests have been known to have some magic, almost always evil and controlling. Some have been known to possess mind magic and the ability to influence another's thoughts and will. More importantly they have always been connected with necromancy, the animating and controlling of the dead. If the Tisroc had started fighting against the High Priest's influence it wouldn't surprise me if your father, dead or alive, was indeed under their control."

"So, my father may already be dead, and they are simply animating his dead body!" The prince seemed suddenly appalled and quite sickened at the thought.

"If they are using necromancy, then the Tisroc is likely already dead, but I doubt they are animating the body. More likely they are hiding the body somewhere and using the... parts... to fuel an illusion or a puppet. The only way we'd know is by finding the body and destroying it. That would end the spell, but it would also set events in motion far faster than we have planned. On the other hand, if the High Priest has already killed the Tisroc, then we can waste no more time," Leona said.

"I won't ask how you would know these things," the prince said. "But I trust you. We must find out if the Tisroc is truly dead or . . . something else."

"I think I know a way . . ." Adara said softly.

Leona kept her eyes on the marbled floor as she walked side by side with Adara down the halls of the palace. The basket of clean laundry in her arms was heavy and cumbersome but she tried her best not to loose her grip on it. Next to her, Adara had a pile of sheets in her arms and was surreptitiously leading the way down the corridors. Leona had never been to this part of the palace before and it was crucial that they appeared to know where they were going and what they were going to do when they got there.

Daronon had disliked Adara's plan from the start, saying that it was far too risky, and that he should be the one to snoop around his father's chambers. Adara pointed out that the High Priest already knew that he was suspicious and that to give the evil man any more excuse to have Daronon quietly disposed of would be foolish.

"_If High Priest Hador finds you looking for your father outside his jurisdiction, you won't leave those rooms alive! The maids still have to clean and that will at least get us into the rooms, unlike you who won't even get past the doors without a fight or at the very least, a fuss," Adara said adamantly. Leona didn't think that the idea of simply waltzing in pretending to be maids was a particularly good plan, but she also knew that Daronon was simply not capable of sneaking around the palace without being recognized. She also knew that simple was sometimes best when it came to subterfuge. The more complicated a plan was, the more ways that the entire thing could go to pieces. _

"_This is madness," Leona said. "There are guards at the entrances to the Tisroc's rooms. Even the maids would never be allowed in without an escort, and never when the Tisroc would be present. We'd never get in that way. Are there any ways in that aren't guarded?"_

_Daronon thought for a bit, then said slowly, "My mother's rooms had an adjoining passageway to the Tisroc's, so that if they wished for any . . . comings and goings in the middle of the night there was no need for a fuss. That suite has been closed up since she died, but I doubt that it's guarded."_

"_Very well," Leona said. "This is what we'll do then . . ."_

The two women rounded a corner and came to a stop outside a set of wood-paneled doors. Farther down the hall, two armed soldiers stood sentry outside the Tisroc's chambers. Seemingly for lack of anything better to do, the guards followed the 'maids' with their eyes. Leona reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a set of keys that Prowler had conveniently stolen for her earlier. As she fumbled through the keys to try and find the right one, she made sure to mutter just loudly enough for the guards to hear her. "Horrible old hag, sends us to clean an empty room and doesn't even bother to tell me which key to use . . . I do not understand why it needs to be cleaned at all, no-one lives there anyway . . ."

As per previous arrangement, Adara quietly broke in with, "Shush, you know better than to talk like that about the housekeeper! It'll be worth a beating if she finds out!"

"You can't deny that she's a horrible old hag," Leona said, again for the guards' benefit, and she knew that the gambit had paid off when she heard one of the listening guards chuckle.

Having finally gotten the right key, she opened the door and the two women slipped inside and closed the door behind them. Without pause they quickly shoved their loads of laundry under a sheet-covered table and went through each room as swiftly as they could until they came to the bedroom. Damask-covered chairs were everywhere and an enormous canopied bed stood in place of honor against one wall.

"Daronon said that the entrance to the passageway was against the far wall," Adara said, starting to run her hands over the paneling, trying to find something resembling a door.

Leona joined her friend at her efforts and then turned to her with a small smile. "Just think, this suite could be yours one day, if Daronon actually goes through with his plans and marries you."

Adara smiled back, "I don't care where we would live, as long as we were together."

"Romantic notion, but are you sure that you are willing to be a queen?" Leona said. "I'm sure it's not all ass's milk baths and fan bearers and servants to carry your things. . . Is he worth the snipping ladies talking about your 'low birth' and the dangers of court life when assassins are common?"

Adara turned to look at her friend. "I can tell you've never been in love before, Leona. Once you are, you'll understand that hardships and complications are part of any relationship, but that love makes them all worth the trouble. Aha! Found it!!"

Under her fingers a small depression hid an even smaller lever, which Adara gently pressed. With a soft _whoosh_ a door slid open about six paces to her left in the corner. Taking up a small candle lantern from the bedside table, Leona lit it and let the way through the tunnel.

It had taken quite a bit of planning to get the timing just right for this escapade. There was little use in searching the Tisroc's rooms if they were occupied, so the women had to make their search when the Tisroc was expected to be out and about, which given the lack of public appearances that the ruler was making, wasn't an easy proposition. The guard schedule also had to be taken into account, as two maids that were taking an extra long time to clean would be odd, so they made sure to be seen by guards that were about to be relieved. With luck the bored soldiers would forget to tell their replacements about the two girls in the queen's chambers.

The passageway came to an end quickly since there were only about a dozen paces between the two chambers. Leona blew out the candle and put it safely on the floor of the passageway. With one ear to the door she listened for any noise in the Tisroc's chamber. After a few moments of hearing nothing, she quietly pushed the door open and they slipped inside. If Leona had thought that the deserted queens apartments were lavish, they paled in comparison to the rooms the girls were in now. Tapestries covered every wall, cushions were on each lounge and the bed was as large as a poor family's house!

"Let's get started," Leona said, forcing her mind back to business. "Look for anything that seems out of place, strange amulets or unusual herbs in strange places..."

The girls had been searching fruitlessly for nearly ten minutes when Leona froze. "Do you hear that?"

They looked at each other with horror as the sounds of people in the next room came clearly through the open door. Without a moment to spare they slipped under the high bed and prayed that they hadn't been seen or heard.

"We shall likely be closeted together most of the day and part of the night, so do feel free to tell your replacements that I am here with the Tisroc and we should not be disturbed." The soft, calm tones of the High Priest conversing with the guards outside could be heard even under the bed. Leona shared a look of even greater horror with Adara at the thought of being caught by the High Priest himself.

At the sound of the door closing the High Priest's voice changed. "Come," he said sharply to someone who, although silent, had obviously been in the antechamber with him. Under the cover of the blanket hanging off the bed, Leona could see two sets of feet cross the room in front of her. To her bewilderment they continued onward towards the wall leading into the next suite. Her confusion was replaced with excitement and understanding when another secret door flipped open at a touch of the High Priest's hand. He took up a lit lantern and the two sets of feet entered the unknown passage, leaving the door open behind them. Within moments the room was empty again. Being as quiet as possible the girls slid out from underneath the bed.

Now the true decision was upon them, to make their escape while it was still possible, or to risk everything and follow the High Priest into whatever lay through that passage. As one, the two women moved towards the open passageway following the moving light of the High Priest's lantern.

TBC...

Author's note for the chapter. Okay, I almost feel guilty leaving it at a cliffhanger, but there really wasn't any better place to leave it. I'll try and get back into this story more and get the next chapter out faster, but I'm just having a hideous case of writer's block that doesn't appear to want to go away. Wish me luck and please remember to review so I know that there are still people who haven't given up on me!


	25. Chapter 25: Leona's Story: Fear

Sorry for the horrible delay. I finally had the guts to quit a job that was making me miserable but needless to say, Real Life has had to take priority for a while. I also had to deal with mutating plot bunnies again... But I've come through and here is your next chapter in the ongoing epic that Leona's story is becoming! As a warning, this chapter picks up right where chapter twenty-four leaves off, so you may want to re-read the last chapter if you don't immediately know what's going on.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Leona's Story: Fear

Leona and Adara quietly crept through the darkness of the hidden passageway leading from the Tisroc's rooms, following the bobbing light of the High Priest's lantern. This passage was far longer than the short one connecting the empty Queen's chambers and the Tisroc's, where they had first infiltrated the Tisroc's rooms. Leona idly wondered if this tunnel was something that had been included when the palace was built or if it was a later, secret addition.

Only the sight of the lantern up ahead descending downwards warned the two women that the smooth floor beneath their feet changed into stairs, but it still came as a shock when Leona stepped forward and met open air instead of stone. She gave a swiftly muted gasp as she caught herself against the stone wall and looked ahead, wide eyed and breathless, at the lantern for any sign that she had been heard. The light seemed to pause momentarily but continued. Leona restrained the urge to sigh in relief.

The passageway seemed to go on forever, though the stairs did end after a while, and Leona tried unsuccessfully to keep track of the turns and think of what direction they would be heading. They had traveled far enough to be underneath the city proper by now, and she had a horrible feeling that the only place a hidden passageway such as this would lead would be to the temple of Tash. She fought the urge to turn back. Now was not the time for cold feet. They had no idea of how to open the secret door, and if the High Priest was using necromancy on the Tisroc's body, every moment lost was a moment that Tash could get a firmer grip on all of Calormen. She and Adara needed to find the Tisroc, dead or alive.

After what felt like eternity, the ground rose again and the bobbing light that they were following was eclipsed by the brighter light of another door opening ahead. Leona blinked hard in the light after so long in the pitch darkness of the passage. The two women had stayed far enough behind the High Priest, and his unknown companion, quite likely the Tisroc, that they would not be seen when the door opened, but they still froze in place until the door had slid shut and they could approach the end of the passage. Leona could hear Adara's excited breathing next to her. If it wasn't for the need for silence she would have reminded the other woman that this was not something to be excited over.

Leona put her ear to the thin wooden panel of the door and listened hard for any sounds from whatever room was on the other side. She had no idea where they were, but she wasn't going to just jump out without thinking about it. She could hear nothing and started to cautiously slide the door open, letting a slim crack of light through.

Suddenly, the panel was wrenched out of her hands and shoved open. Blinded by the sudden light, Leona and Adara both staggered back and the strong hands that grabbed them and pulled them from the passageway were met with little resistance for the first few seconds. As soon as she had recovered enough from the shock to realize that she was being attacked, Leona started fighting back for all she was worth. Her eyes still streaming tears from the light, she couldn't see her attackers, but nevertheless tried to get to the small dagger she had strapped to her ankle. But before she could even properly grip it, a violent blow knocked it from her hand, and her arms were quickly pinned behind her. The sounds of scuffling beside her told Leona that Adara wasn't going down without a fight either, but the other girl was swiftly subdued as well.

Now that her eyes had stopped streaming and she could see what was going on, Leona realized that their captors were dressed in the robes of Tash's acolytes. She felt sick and her heart couldn't seem to decide whether to sink to her shoes or climb out her throat and settled for simply pounding like never before. Cords were wrapped around her hands and she could see Adara getting similar treatment. Without saying a word the acolytes pulled the women from the otherwise deserted room and down a dimly lit hall.

Leona didn't even bother trying to talk her way out of the situation. Their arrival had obviously been expected and there was nothing she could do to escape just yet. With Aslan's grace, an opportunity would arise later. She wanted to turn and comfort Adara, who was whimpering in fear beside her, but she needed to focus on getting them out of this predicament.

The group came to a halt outside a heavy wooden door and one of the acolytes knocked. The door swung open and the two women were pushed roughly inside, with the acolyte closing the door behind them.

"So, I _was_ being followed," a voice said from beside the fireplace. High Priest Hador looked each woman over and Leona fought the urge to cringe at the look in his eye. Rather than meet the priest's eye she looked around the room for any other ways out or anything that could help her escape. The dimly lit room seemed designed to inspire fear in anyone exposed to it. Strange bottles filled with unknown contents littered the shelves and a human skull or two had been used as paperweights on the large wooden table against one wall. Leona tried not to snicker. Just because the High Priest liked being cliché didn't make him any less dangerous, particularly if Tash was backing him.

The two figures against the opposite wall caught her attention for a moment. They were two men, identical down to their clothing, only one was obviously dead. The Tisroc's body lay on a cot in the corner and she could smell the faint hint of decay in the air. The other figure stood next to the corpse, still as a statue and with as little expression. She had been right and the Tisroc that was seen around the palace was only an animated puppet. Her stomach clenched at the thought of the evil intent that would have been needed to fuel a spell of such power and darkness.

A cold hand brushing her cheek brought her attention firmly back to the High Priest who had somehow silently made his way to her side. "I had not expected _you_ though," Hador said, leaning closer. She tried hard not to show her revulsion as he brushed aside the hair by her ear in a lover's caress. His thin lips were nearly touching her ear as he whispered, "Guardian."

Leona's heart stopped beating for a moment in sheer cold-blooded terror. No one in this age of men knew that she was Aslan's Guardian. There was no way that Hador could have known who she was. Unless, the man before her wasn't _only _Hador...

She tried to stop her body from shaking, but her fear had gotten out of control. Fear wasn't something she was particularly familiar with. Any situation she was ever in that was worth being afraid over was something that she had Aslan's help with. What need had she to fear with him on her side? This was vastly different. She started frantically calling Aslan's name in her head trying to reach him through the link that he usually used when guiding her actions as Guardian, but there was no answering reply.

Hador turned to Adara who had silent tears of terror running down her cheeks. If Leona hadn't been so worried about her own fate she would have felt more sympathy for the other girl. Adara had never been in a situation like this before. She had almost thought of this whole job of breaking into the Tisroc's chambers as a lark, or a daring adventure. Leona knew that it had never truly crossed Adara's mind that they would get caught as spies. Hador looked the other girl up and down, then opened the door and gestured for one of the acolytes to take Adara away.

"Take her to the guard barracks, I'm sure that the soldiers will find some use for her there," Hador said, casually. Leona was held in place by Hador's cold hands as her friend was dragged from the room, screaming in terror. Tears started crawling down Leona's cheeks as the sound of Adara's cries were shut off by the closing door.

Leona stood still as Hador slowly circled her, looking her up and down like an interesting puzzle or an animal he'd never seen before.

"Why are you here?" Hador asked her simply.

Leona didn't reply. What could she say? If Hador believed that she was involved in the situation under Aslan's orders would he believe her if she told the truth, that she was helping the rebellion of her own will?

"How did Aslan know I am so close to obtaining a body of my own?" Hador said.

Leona looked at him in only slightly faked confusion. "Why would you need a body, High Priest?" she asked, trying to appear as a simple Calormen maiden. "You are standing in front of me. I'm afraid that I don't understand what you are asking."

Hador again stepped close to her and whispered softly, "Do you know how Tash chooses his High Priests? Much the same way Aslan chooses his Guardian. Only Tash has no interest in guiding the actions of a mortal when he can simply take over and do things himself. So, when the newly chosen High Priest does his first blood sacrifice, Tash enters his mind and body as far as can be done without killing the mortal. Some priests were weak and closed their minds to Tash in fear, others open their minds and bodies to him and let him always remain in the back of their heads, guiding their actions and supplementing their magical powers. Unfortunately, their bodies can rarely tolerate a foreign presence for long and they simply die or go mad. Why else do you think that a High Priest of Tash rarely lives longer than a few years? But Tash grows weary of this constant transfer of his power and wishes a body of his own so that he can be on equal standing with that... _Lion_." That last word was said with such venom that Leona almost cringed.

"Tash is almost there, the experiments he has had his subjects doing are nearly finished. I believe that enough death can create life, and it will only take a few more human sacrifices and Tash will be able to have a body of his own. It took many years and many dangerous challenges to find the right combination of spilled blood and concocted potions to get as far as I have," Hador said, eyes gleaming with a frightening madness and fanaticism.

Hador leaned closer to Leona, who was now shaking uncontrollably. "But, until then, in a way, a High Priest of Tash... _is _Tash. So, I ask you again, why are you here?"

Nothing could have convinced Leona to tell Hador anything. If indeed the High Priest was housing Tash's spirit or intelligence the same way that she sometimes housed Aslan's, the last thing that she should do was tell him so much as 'good morning'. Also, if he was in any way supplemented by Tash's evil, she was in serious trouble without Aslan's backing... She continued mentally calling Aslan's name in her head, but she may as well have been screaming at a brick wall for all the reply she got.

"It would do you good to answer me," Hador said, still in a silkily soft tone. "You are not the only one who can suffer for your silence. Your little friend is being taken to help the other servants in the guard barracks, and that is not a nice or safe place for a beautiful woman. Your co-operation will set her free. I have no use for her myself and will let her go if you tell me what I want."

Tears ran down Leona's cheeks at the thought of gentle Adara. She had a loving man waiting for her return. Leona couldn't let anything happen to her, particularly not the kind of horrible fate that would await her at the hands of Tash's fiendish guards.

"What do you want to know?" Leona asked quietly. There was no point in denying her position as the Guardian. Tash would have recognized her from the times that she had fought with Aslan against his attempts to gain power. Hopefully, all he would want would be information on the rebellion, and she didn't know all the details of the Prince's plans, so she wouldn't be able to betray them.

"Everything," Hador said. "What Aslan does, how he does it, what are his plans, how he rose from the dead so many centuries ago, if I can kill him and make sure he stays dead. I want to know everything you know about Archenland and Narnia, where their secret strongholds are, the best ways for a spy to infiltrate those lands, who I must have killed in order to take over."

Leona almost threw up at his words. He wanted her to betray everything she believed in and fought for over the past centuries! The truly frightening thing was that she knew most everything that Tash wanted to know. She couldn't tell him! No matter the cost could be she couldn't betray Aslan, Narnia and Archenland to a demon that would ravage and destroy everything that defied him until there was nothing left of goodness or hope.

"On the other hand, if you don't help me by telling me what I want to know, your friend won't be the only one suffering. Your death on Tash's altar as the final sacrifice needed for Tash's body can aid my cause quite well, if I can't make use of you any other way. I'll leave you to think it over," Hador said, and he dragged her over to the cot by the wall that the dead Tisroc was laying on, and tied her hands to the cot legs. "Oh, and I'd better make sure you don't decide to go wandering..." A whispered spell later, and Leona could not so much as twitch, only lie there next to the rotting corpse. The puppet Tisroc simply stood there, unmoving and unresponsive.

Picking up his cloak, Hador swept from the room, saying as he left, "I'll come back for your answer tomorrow." Then he was gone, leaving Leona alone with a corpse, a spell-animated puppet and her own thoughts.

_Aslan, help me!!_ she screamed in her head, trying to get any response from the Lion who usually was only a thought away. Nothing happened, no answering reply, no mental pulling in the direction of an answer to her difficulties. She started panicking. Never had Aslan not helped her when she felt she had need of him. He'd always been there in the back of her head, guiding her actions as she did his bidding throughout the centuries. But, now, he wasn't answering her pleas.

No one knew where she and Adara were. They had been supposed to try and find evidence of what was wrong with the Tisroc and be out of the palace within an hour. It had been far, far longer than an hour, and Prince Daronon must be frantic with worry over Adara by now, but to all extents and purposes, the two women would have vanished into thin air. He would never be allowed to search for them in the Tisroc's rooms nor would he try, thinking it would jeopardize the mission. Rescue was highly unlikely unless, somehow, Daronon found out that they had been captured by the High Priest, and he managed to cobble together enough men to storm the Temple and rescue them. Leona would have snorted if she could move. The odds of Daronon managing that in time to be of any use were astronomical. The situation seemed hopeless, unless Aslan intervened. She called again in her mind for Aslan to respond and help her, but again, silence was her answer.

Leona wanted to scream but the spell Hador had put on her kept her from doing much more than breathing, crying and swallowing. She was frightened and the fact that she was frightened frightened her even more. She kept telling herself to pull herself together and focus, but horrible images kept running through her head. She had been captured by evil forces many times in her centuries as Guardian, but it had always been under Aslan's instruction and for a purpose.

This was different. She had been captured by a High Priest of Tash who obviously had more than a little bit of Tash's power and knowledge, and Aslan did not seem to be backing her in any way. The thought was enough to send her into a mental panic. Without Aslan in her head guiding her, she was in most every way, a normal human, with no extra abilities or talents that could help her.

Adara was another worry. Her friend was in an even worse situation that Leona was in at the moment, but she could think of no way of rescuing either of them. Leona could only pray that nothing too terrible happened to Adara before they either escaped or were rescued. Leona couldn't give in to Hador, no matter what the cost to Adara or herself. She hated that an innocent was going to suffer for her decisions, but the destruction and devastation that Tash would wreak on the world with the information Leona could give him outweighed anything that one person could suffer. But could she ever forgive herself for letting Adara suffer a horrible fate when all it would take to save her would be words?

Her mind whirling in confusion and distress, Leona closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep, feeling more like a frightened child than she had since her family had died.

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter: Sorry this is kinda short and leaves on a cliffhanger, but that's just the way it ended up working best. It shouldn't take as long for the next chapter to come out, so hopefully you guys won't be too upset with me. :) Sorry if Hador seems really cliché, but I'm still figuring out how to write villains and canon Tash tends to be really two dimensional. Don't forget to review and let me know what you think!


	26. Chapter 26: Leona's Story:Victim &

I'm back!! Now that I have my new job mostly understood, I can put some creativity into this story . . . WARNING! This chapter is a bit more graphic than I've ever been before. I believe that the rating is appropriate, but please let me know if you think I should bump it up.

Many thanks to elecktrum for becoming my new beta!!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter twenty-six: Leona's story: Victim and Survivor

Leona's dreams were dark and terrifying; images of frantically running down dark passageways looking for help or a way out as something evil and malevolent followed behind her. As she would cry out loud for anyone to come to her aid the darkness seemed to swallow her voice and her pleas went unanswered. Waking didn't improve her situation and after a few moments of reflection she rather wished to be back in the nightmare.

A cold, clammy hand softly stroking her face was what had woken her. The night before Hador had used a spell to remove her body from her control, and she still could not so much as twitch in protest as he knelt by her side and ran his fingers softly up and down her face. If her body had let her, she would have vomited at the sheer revulsion that his touch caused.

His hand gently ran from her forehead to her chin, then in a lighting swift mood change he gripped her chin in his hand, hard. The helplessness was starting to crowd in on her again.

_Aslan! Where are you?_ She called in her mind over and over down the mental path that usually connected her to the lion when she was doing his bidding as Guardian. There was no answering reply and no hint that she was anything other than alone.

"Get up," Hador hissed, and to her incredible discomfort, Leona obeyed. Her mind tried to tell her body to disobey, but it was as though she was simply a passenger. As she stood facing Hador she tried to be brave, but there was an undercurrent of panic running through the back of her mind.

"I asked you last night to tell me what I wanted to know," the High Priest said. "You have centuries of information on Aslan and his ways, and I want to know everything that you do. I want to know what his weaknesses are, and how best to exploit them. I want to know about Narnia and Archenland, and how to destroy them. Will you tell me?"

His voice was soft and calm, but Leona could hear a tone of steel underneath. If she didn't do as Hador asked, he would kill her, and do it slowly. She felt the spell loosen and she could speak.

"No," she said simply. She might be scared, but there was still Aslan to remember. He had never let Tash win a fight before and she seriously doubted that he would start now. Even if he wasn't responding to her calls for assistance that didn't mean that he wasn't still coming for her, or wouldn't help later on. She had to keep the faith. Aslan would come. Now if only she could be sure he would come in time . . .

Hador smiled. "I didn't truly think you would. Someone who has been loyal for as long as you have would not break simply on command, and I doubt torturing you would do me any good either. Well, so be it. Your death will serve a purpose at any rate. It should take but one more sacrifice to give my lord Tash his own body."

Snakes seemed to be twisting in Leona's stomach. She hated feeling helpless, and faith in Aslan or not, the great Lion didn't seem to be here now and her situation was becoming more and more dire. Until that blasted spell wore off or was taken off she was in no position to help herself. She still didn't know what had happened to Adara and since she needed to rescue the other girl along with herself, she was in more than a little difficulty.

"Come," Hador commanded, and Leona's body followed him out the door without a fuss.

She trailed behind the High Priest down a dimly lit stone hallway and up several flights of stairs. She tried to turn her head to look around for possible escape routes, but the spell would not allow even that small of an independent motion.

They seemed to be moving from the private wing of the High Priest into the more active, public parts of the temple. She wanted to scream for someone to help her, but even if one of the lesser priests, acolytes or servants saw something unusual in a woman meekly following the High Priest, it was unlikely they would even be inclined to help.

It was terrible being unable to get her own body to move. She wanted to run away, to flee, to hide, but all she did was walk on behind Hador like an obedient shadow.

There was a stop to the acolytes' mess hall where two burly assistants were chosen and they left their meals to fall in step on either side of Leona. Another couple of stops at various storerooms and closets for ecclesiastical robes and strange potions had the assistants following with full arms. A long, jeweled dagger that looked very old, and was rusted with what seemed like dried blood went into Hador's belt.

_Any time now . . ._ she thought. _ Aslan, I respect your sense of timing, but please hurry!!_ But there was no answer, the spell remained firmly in place and there was not so much as a whisper of a rescue on the way.

Hador led them across a large courtyard towards the temple proper, where the sacrifices were done and where he presumably was going to do the final human sacrifice needed to give his evil master a body. Suddenly, he stopped short and turned to face Leona. She didn't like the look on his face in the slightest; it was a cold, excited smirk.

"I had forgotten your little friend," he drawled. "You must want to see her before the end, and I may need another victim if you prove... insufficient."

_No, no, no... not Adara too! _Leona moaned in her mind. Let her at least stay safe! But her mental pleas were again to no avail and Hador turned a corner and headed to a large, squat, dark building by the temple gates. Leona could hear rough, riotous laughter coming from inside when one of the acolytes managed to open the door for the High Priest. Her heart in her throat, Leona followed him in.

It was the temple guard barracks and like most other barracks she had seen, this first room was mostly tables and benches with a few rough cots against one wall for the men to catch a quick nap between shifts. Gone were the days when the Temple guard was mostly ornamental or even functional. The soldiers filling the room with coarse laughter were swarthy, ill-kept, and acted no better than tavern thugs. It didn't particularly surprise Leona that this current batch of temple soldiers was so bad; it took a particular brand of man to do the sort of dark things that were currently being demanded. Most of the good men, those with a strong mind and firm conscience, had already left the service of the High Priest.

To her surprise, Hador did not immediately draw attention to himself, but let her look her fill on the room. She couldn't see Adara anywhere, but that didn't necessarily mean anything good. Then the crowd of chattering men in the corner shifted and Leona could see her friend.

Adara was trying to serve the men drinks, but was hampered when one, then another would grab at her dress or her hair and pull her down into their laps. Her dress was torn and disheveled and her hair had been yanked out of its bun to wave in tangled strands around her shoulders. Worst of all were her eyes and her demeanor. She wasn't even putting up a token resistance to the men groping her and her eyes were dead and defeated.

"Consider yourself lucky, my dear," Hador whispered into her ear. "Even dead, your bedmates were far more congenial than hers."

Leona wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry, scream, rage at the people who had done this to her friend. Adara lifted her head a little and met Leona's eyes for a brief second before turning away again.

"Bring her," Hador instructed one of the soldiers, motioning towards Adara. Finally, the girl showed some spark of life and started pulling away as she was dragged towards Hador. Her face was full of fear, and it cut Leona to the heart to see the smart, happy woman she knew reduced to this state. At the sight of Adara's struggles Hador instructed the soldier to bind her hands to keep her from running away and the rope attached was given to one of the burly acolytes. Now bound, Adara's fear turned into defeat and she followed meekly, head down.

Even if she had been able to move on her own accord, Leona wouldn't know what to do to help Adara. She was overwhelmed by the feelings rushing through her; rage, grief, and a horrible feeling of guilt at her inner relief that it hadn't been her. . .

Leona knew they had reached their final destination when she saw the temple, empty except for a work table, and a blood-stained altar against one wall with a man-sized carving of Tash behind it. With four arms, and a bird's head the stone carving was grotesque and she mentally cringed at the blood stains that had splattered up from the altar to dot the statue. Unless something happened soon, her and Adara's blood would be decorating the statue. . .

"I must not be disturbed for anything," Hador instructed the acolytes following him. "Any distraction could be disastrous. Tie the serving girl hand and foot, gag her, then put her in the corner where she can't bother me. Then leave."

The two acolytes obeyed and Leona could hear Adara's whimpers of fear as she was tied securely and gagged. Leona could only stand there, helplessly bound by magic. Aslan would be coming soon, she was sure of it! She'd never seen Aslan stay _out _of a fight with Tash, so he must simply be waiting for the right moment to help.

Hador put on the robes he had brought with him, and Leona would have giggled if she could. She had run the gauntlet of emotions already. What had started out as nervous worry had turned into what was almost hysterical panic. Hador started assembling the bits and pieces of his magic, putting various ingredients into a potion and making gestures over the cup as he did so. Hador attracted her attention again as he finished whatever concoction he was mixing and turned to her.

"Drink it," he instructed her. To her inner horror, her hand reached out, took the cup and brought it to her lips. The drink was vile, with a metallic taste that reminded her of blood. It settled in her belly like lead, but much as she wanted to vomit it up, the spell kept it down. She didn't know what it was suppose to do, but she felt a bit dizzy.

"You hate me, don't you," he said, drawing close and dropping his voice to a low whisper. His voice sounded odd, like it was two men speaking at the same time. "You are frightened of me." He reached out and stroked her cheek. She could smell him, a sour, musty scent, like something already dead and rotting in a crypt. "You have reason to fear me. Lie down on the altar."

Inside her head Leona started screaming in terror, and her pleas for Aslan to help her, to come for her, to do _anything_, had no reply. She was alone with a servant of pure evil, and a helpless Adara in the corner.

Her body walked over to the bloody altar and climbed onto it. A single tear managed to work its way past the spell to trickle down her face. _Hurry Aslan, I'm scared!_ she cried in her head. _I can't move, I can't stop him and I'm scared!_ Gone was the experienced woman with centuries of experience and knowledge and left behind was a frightened girl who only wanted someone to help her.

"Do you want to know why I gave you the potion? Why you are still under the spell rather than tied so I can watch you struggling?" Hador asked. "The potion opens your mind to Tash's, letting him speak to you, feel you. He likes to feel his sacrifices die. The spell is to keep you from interrupting the ritual. I cannot have attendants because they add another level of danger. I will die if anything goes wrong, and I could even take most of Tashbaan with me. You are a strong woman, and being utterly helpless is what you fear most. If you are allowed to struggle, you can feel like you are still fighting, but if you are simply lying there, you... are... helpless." The last three words were whispered softly into her ear and another tear escaped. In her eyes, Hador almost flickered for a moment and the image of a bird-headed monster was superimposed over him. Tash leered, as much as a creature with a bird's head could leer.

"You are mine, now, Guardian," Hador/Tash said. "And now you will bring me to life and I will be free to destroy."

Leona's heart nearly stopped. Where was Aslan?!

Hador slowly drew the sacrificial knife up her arm, leaving a thin trickle of blood behind. She could feel her sleeve being cut away and the knife dragged along her skin leaving a line of blood that ran up her arm to her shoulder. A harsh tug tore her dress to expose her heart. With a slow, almost loving motion, he continued to cut, leaving a line of pain from her fingertip to her breast. When the point of the knife was poised over her heart, still cutting into her, he looked up to the statue of Tash looming over the scene. His eyes began to flicker and twitch as though he was trying with all his mind and might to summon his dark god to his side. In her mind Leona could hear the sound of a clicking beak, and a breeze whistled through the windowless room carrying with it the stench of something long dead.

"_I have waited for your death a long time, Guardian."_ The voice was inside her head, and left behind a feeling like slime oozing on her soul. It wasn't a man's voice, it rasped and cawed in places. _"You have fought me for centuries, but now you are mine. The Lion has abandoned you. He isn't coming. You aren't on one of his missions and thus are of no importance. Or maybe he thinks your death will serve some higher purpose. Either way, you die and I will feast on your blood."_

Hador started chanting something, and though she couldn't understand the words, she could feel the power building in the air, making her hair stand on end and her muscles twitch. Whether it had been the potion confusing her mind, the pain of the cuts, or simply her overwhelming fear, she didn't know. Slowly, the priest started leaning on the knife, driving it slowly, bit by bit into her flesh towards her heart. With each hairsbreadth the dagger descended the pressure built until she could feel it like a blanket covering the room.

In that moment, Leona lost faith. All she knew was that Tash was right. Aslan was not coming, the doors were not going to burst open for a rescue to come. It was too late. She was going to die. The pain as the knife was pushed deeper and deeper into her chest was enough to make her want to scream, but the spell still held her passive.

Hador leaned down to whisper in her ear. He opened his mouth to speak a final chant to seal the spell and loose Tash upon the world. Suddenly he lurched forward, the knife pulling out if her and cutting a jagged line across her chest. A look of stunned horror crossed the High Priest's face as all the pent up power that had been summoned for the ritual snapped like a cord stretched too tightly, ripping through the conduit that had created it. Hador convulsed then screamed, a scream that was echoed in Leona's head by Tash. She could feel Tash's presence vanish as blood poured from the High Priests mouth and he collapsed.

With Hador's death the spell holding Leona docile vanished and she sat up, holding one hand to the still-bleeding wound on her chest. She started crying from shock, fear and pain and couldn't seem to stop. Looking down at Hador's body she saw Adara, still bound but kicking the body with all her might. She had crawled, belly-down, over to Hador and kicked him, distracting him enough to break the ritual. Her eyes were no longer blank and defeated, but filled with life and fury, rage and pain. They were the eyes of someone who had come to the conclusion that the only way to truly be a victim was to _decide_ to be one and give in.

The room gave a tremble and Leona vaguely remembered Hador mentioning that breaking the ritual could bring the whole place down as well as kill him. She hopped off the altar and started untying Adara. Without a word, the two survivors hurried from the room into the courtyard. The first thing they noticed was the screams and the sound of battle. Once her eyes adjusted from the dimly lit temple to the bright sunshine of the courtyard, Leona could see small fights throughout the complex. Temple guards were fighting with what looked like a motley group of civilians. One fighter was far from a civilian though. Prince Daronon was fighting like a madman against a soldier who looked to be the captain of the guard. With a swift cut, blood fountained and the guardsman fell. Daronon looked up to find the next fight, then saw Adara and rushed to her side. Even bloody and wild, Adara didn't seem to fear him and threw herself into his arms with a cry.

The ground gave another, greater heave beneath their feet and all around them, masonry was falling as the earthquake started breaking the temple apart. Guardsman and rebel alike started running for the temple gates and then stood watching as towers began crumpling and heard the crashes as stones the size of small houses fell to the earth. The earthquake was over quickly and the damage seemed to be focused on the temple itself rather than the surrounding city. Leona couldn't seem to bring herself to care.

There were still tears running down her face, mingling with the dust. One hand was holding her dress together to cover the wound on her breast. She was utterly numb. She didn't die, but Aslan hadn't come. She didn't bother trying to call down the mental pathway she usually shared with the Lion. She didn't notice Adara bursting into tears and clinging to Daronon, who rocked her back and forth in his arms and crooned softly to her. She barely noticed the large ginger cat who came up to her side and rubbed against her legs. Without a word she turned and walked away.

Leona never remembered exactly how she got to the lamppost in Lantern Waste. She had no memory of crossing the Great Desert, or making her way across Archenland. All she remembered was curling up at the base of the lamppost, with Prowler tucked next to her side, crying herself to sleep and praying to go home.

Leona woke curled up next to a large furry something that was softly purring in her ear. The purr was so deep and warm that it reverberated through her entire body. Without a word she turned her face into Aslan's side and wept. She was horribly shaken by the experience in Tashbaan. The memory of the terrifying presence of Tash in her mind, a mind which up until then had only experienced Aslan's beautiful and gentle presence, was enough to make her bury her face even deeper into the Lion's side. Aslan just let her cry, occasionally nuzzling her with his muzzle in comfort.

The tears didn't stop completely, but she finally raised her head to look at him. "Why didn't you come? I called and called for you, but you didn't reply. I was so frightened and you didn't come."

The Lion only sighed sadly.

Leona sat up, tears still running down her cheeks, her face red and blotchy. "Every other time I ever needed your help you have moved heaven and earth to come to my aid. You have never let me face Tash on my own. Why didn't you help me?"

"You were not on a mission," he said softly. "I told you when you first became Guardian that if you weren't on a mission for me, you had no more right to a miracle than anyone else. I watch out for you when you are between missions, but I cannot save you from yourself and the choices you make. This was one of the few times when it was possible for Tash to be defeated by the mortals he wished to enslave. I did not need to interfere, though I did tell Prowler where you were and he brought Prince Daronon."

Prowler curled up in her lap, trying his best to comfort her simply by his presence. She stroked him with trembling hands and he didn't seem to mind her tears falling into his fur. She understood what Aslan was telling her, but it didn't lessen the pain or aftereffects of the fear.

"I won't ask how you could let such horrible things happen to Adara. I know you would just tell me that you can never tell me another person's story, but can you at least let me know if she will be alright?" She knew that she would not be able to stand being in Calormen for a long time. Very few things got past her emotional armor, but when something did, it stayed burned into her memory.

"She will heal," he said.

Aslan rose to his feet and she looked up at him from the ground. Her tears had finally stopped and she felt miserable, with a stuffed up head and sore eyes from all the crying.

"I feel silly," she said. "I've seen horrible things happen before, I don't know why I'm carrying on like this."

"You may have seen horrible things," Prowler said from her lap, "but they've never happened to _you_ before. It's understandable that it's a shock."

"You will heal," Aslan said. "But not here. If I let you stay in the Land at the Edge of the World you would heal eventually, but it would do you no good to lock yourself away from human companionship. Narnia or Archenland would give you company, but you need someplace different, where you can leave all of this behind and make a fresh start until you are ready to come back. I will send you to London again. You've been there once before so you won't have difficulty blending in."

Leona gave a small protest. "There's no need to go to such an effort, I'll be fine. I just need to get over the shock and everything will be back to normal." But her still trembling hands gave away her words as mere bravado.

"Consider it a mission then," he said. "You will make a life there, find work, laugh, and simply be a young woman again. You must not answer any questions about your previous life however. If anyone asks simply say that you cannot tell them. If you feel it safe, you may answer a few questions about your family, but give no names. While you must not lie, use terms that will not give away the fact that you are from another world. Above all, relax, and heal. Don't be afraid to make friends, their friendship will be worth any pain at parting. I will call you back when it is time."

Leona's tears had dried and she put Prowler down and stood. "Very well, then. I'll go. I'll do my best to follow your instructions."

"Lie down then, and let yourself fall back asleep. When you wake, you will be in London." Aslan nudged her briefly and she wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Wait!" Prowler cried. "Might I come too?"

Aslan looked down at the cat. "There are no Talking Beasts in London. If you were to go, I would have to take your voice and you would have to live there as a dumb cat."

Prowler cringed a little at that news. Every Talking animal had been told stories of how Aslan had given the Beasts a voice at the beginning of the world and if they were bad, that he would take it away again. Being made into a dumb beast was the worst punishment they could imagine. Then he gave himself a little shake and trotted to Leona's side. "Even a Dumb Cat can still give comfort. I don't want to leave her alone without someone familiar."

Aslan looked pleased. Leona was incredibly touched and knelt down to hug her small friend. The knowledge that he was willing to give up his voice to help her was enough to almost bring her to tears again.

"Very well, my noble one," Aslan told Prowler, who perked up at being called noble by the mighty Lion. "You may go as well."

"I will get my voice back when we return?" Prowler clarified.

Aslan laughed and nodded. Leona curled up in the soft grass and Prowler made himself comfortable in her arms. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt the fear ease. When she woke in the nave of the same church she had arrived in the last time she had come to London, she felt that this was a new start. Maybe she could truly heal.

TBC...

Author's notes for chapter: Most of the delay on this chapter can be blamed on Evendim introducing me to the Sharpe series. Fourteen movies, several books and much fanfiction later, I can get back to my own story! Leona's part only has one more chapter then it's back to Real Narnia and our usual heroes. Don't forget to review!


	27. Chapter 27:Leona's Story: Free to Love

I'm back! This chapter is going to cover the time from chapter one to chapter seventeen. Since I don't really feel like telling seventeen chapters from Leona's point of view a lot of stuff is going to get omitted or glossed over for the sake of not repeating myself. If you want it might be a good idea to re-read the earlier chapters if you don't remember what happened earlier in the story.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 27: Leona's story: Free to love

Leona woke slowly, lying on the hard wooden pew of an old church in London. Prowler was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he would find her when he'd finished his own exploring. The preacher found her all alone and after discovering the reticent girl had nowhere to live, offered to let her stay at the church and helped find her a job across London at a bakery near a college.

The job was fairly simple; help bake the various breads, pastries and rolls, man the shop and wait on customers. It was refreshing to deal with simple day-to-day life after the action her life had been full of for so long in Narnia.

It felt odd to be around so many young people. Since the bakery was right next to a college campus most of the customers were in their early twenties. Regardless of her true age, over two thousand, Leona never seemed to really _grow up_ past the age she was when she became Guardian at twenty-one. It was almost surreal watching them. They were so different from their Narnian counterparts, yet their behavior seemed completely natural. She supposed that people really were the same no matter where they are and where they are from. As long as she kept that in mind and kept her head down until she got a good grasp on the environment she had no difficulties in blending in.

An un-looked for aspect of her newfound home was the influx of young men. It seemed like not more than a day or two went by without some young man flirting idly with her. The attention was rather flattering at first but as she would watch their behavior the gallantry seemed fake. Not one seemed able to balance their flirtation with respect and she started finding more stringent ways of informing her would-be swains that she was not interested. One young man in particular was unusually persistent, but his cheerful manner and good-natured teasing made up for his inability to take "no" for an answer.

"So, what are you looking for in a man?" Anthony asked her.

Having found it was easiest with Anthony to simply answer his questions rather than avoiding them, Leona said, "A gentleman, someone who is noble and honorable without being arrogant." She thought a little more about the question. She had considered this question off and on for centuries and had finally solidified her dream. "Someone who is willing to treat me like a lady and help me fight my battles, without treating me like a china doll or a child. A knight in shining armor if you like to call it that."

He leaned against the counter and grinned at her. "I can be a knight in shining armor if you like."

She cocked an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Not to put too fine a point on it, your 'armor' is rusty and you're no knight!"

Rather than being insulted, Anthony threw his head back and roared with laughter. Looking down at his disheveled clothing and haphazard manner, he said, "I suppose you're right. . . I guess I'm simply not the man for you." His face became serious all of a sudden as a thought seemed to strike him. "But maybe I know someone who is. . ."

Leona was in the back of the shop, wiping down the large wooden table when she heard the bell on the door tinkle merrily as someone entered.

"Leona, are you here?" a voice called from the shop. She thought that it sounded like Anthony, and when she tossed the rag into the sink and entered the shop she saw that she was right. But Anthony was not alone. Another man was with him who she had never remembered seeing before; handsome with dark blond hair. He looked vaguely familiar, but if he was a student at the college she'd probably seen him walking the streets.

With a grin, Anthony drew her out from behind the counter and introduced her to his friend.

"Peter, meet Leona," he said, cheerfully. The other man, Peter, politely smiled and shook her hand with a murmured hello.

With an exuberant manner, Anthony began to list his friend's virtues, much to the mounting annoyance of said friend. "See what I mean, Leona! Is he not noble? A true Knight in Shining Armor! The epitome of chivalry!" Anthony gushed.

Looking at Peter but talking to Anthony, Leona replied, "He is indeed noble featured, but do his actions match?" Taking a chance, she sank into a curtsy. She looked this strange man in the eye and silently offered him a challenge. _Prove that you are as noble and chivalric as your friend claims_, the look said. _Show me that you are a true gentleman._ If he didn't rise to her challenge she would know that this was just another modern boy who was set in his ways and he would not be Narnian enough for her tastes. She liked modern England well enough, but she wanted a true gentleman, and this world seemed to have a different definition of the word than what she considered a gentleman to be. _On the other hand, _she thought as Peter matched her curtsy with an elegant bow of his own, _maybe this Peter is gentleman enough for me after all! _

Leona never intended to fall in love with Peter Pevensie. She had spend over two thousand years intentionally not falling in love with anyone! But, somehow every visit that man made to the bakery had her going from a mild flirtation, which was the most she intended to allow her heart to indulge in, to something more intense and deep. He brought out a side of her that she rarely let emerge; herself. For longer than she cared to remember, she had always been playing a role as the Guardian. Sometimes living as a spy, other times just as a bard, but never as just herself. There was no need for roles here, and Peter seemed to delight in finding more and more about her, her opinions and thoughts. Not the thoughts or opinions of whoever she was masquerading as, but hers. She never had to hide _herself _from him, just any information that would indicate she was from another world. She didn't think she'd ever felt this free.

She wasn't sure when she truly started falling in love with him. She realized that her feelings for him were more than simple affection when she was trapped in her own kitchen while Peter fought the villain, Gerard Conroy. She was more frightened for Peter's safety than her own, despite having still had nightmares about High Priest Hador's spell holding her helpless. Later she thought that the sensation of being trapped and at the mercy of a killer would have sent her tumbling helplessly into flashbacks, but her fears for Peter's life had driven any thought of her own plight out of her mind until hours after. When he asked for permission to court her, she wasn't sure what insane part of her mind told him yes. She was terrified that it would never work out, until she finally gave in and let her heart go. If she needed to beg Aslan to let her stop being the Guardian, so be it. He had promised her that if she fell in love and wanted to give up her position and become mortal she could. There was hope, so she embraced it with all her strength.

Peter's invitation to visit his family for Christmas was not completely unexpected, but she was very grateful not to have to spend Christmas all alone except for Prowler. Automatically, she arranged to come after the 22, the anniversary of her families' deaths. It was habit for her to take the day to herself on those years she remembered what the day meant. She knew she would remember this year. A couple of nights before she had woke weeping from a dream of that horrible day. There was no chance of forgetting the meaning of December 22nd this year...

A miserable, depressing 22nd later, she was making herself put the day and the memories behind her for a while, and taking a train to Canterbury to pick up Peter's Christmas present. She had found the beaten-up old sword at an estate sale and had found a sword smith in Canterbury who would restore it. The trip wasn't very long, but it occupied the time until she needed to close up her flat and head to the train station again to meet Peter in Finchley.

Her time with Peter and his family was vastly enjoyable, but she started to get a feeling that there was more to the Pevensie family than met the eye. They seemed to share a secret, and they all had an air about them that was unusually royal, and almost. . . Narnian. But, that surely wasn't possible. All but the eldest daughter, Susan, shared a love of things romantic and noble, perhaps that was all she was seeing in them. Susan was different. She was a modern girl, enjoying the rounds of parties and dances, living simply in the moment and almost shunning the company of her siblings. Leona liked her though, there was something about her that inspired confidences and an opportunity to just be a young woman. She was a girl friend that Leona could relax around and simply be frivolous with without being thought immature or silly. It was unbelievably refreshing, yet she could sense there was more to Susan than met the eye as well. But sensing the other girls wish to be left alone on the subject, she never pried.

The holiday was drawing to a close. The 3rd of January they would all head back to their various schools and Leona would go back to her work in the bakery. There was to be a dance on New Year's Eve and everyone was eagerly looking forward to it.

Halfway through the afternoon, Leona felt a blinding headache come on and went upstairs to lie down, hoping it would go away before it was time to get ready for the dance. As she slipped off to sleep, she felt a sudden sense of foreboding.

_She walked along the beach outside Cair Paravel. The wind was strong and the water ran up in waves at her feet. Aslan was standing stationary ahead of her and she walked toward him. _

"_You are to come back, Guardian," he said. _

_The part of her that knew this was no mere dream gasped in horror. Her hopes and dreams crumbled at her feet like sand castles melting in the tide. "Must I? But, I love Peter! I. . . I don't want to be the Guardian if it means I must lose him!"_

_Aslan was implacable and paid no mind to her pleas. "Be at the church you arrived in England in by midday on the 4__th__ of January. You must not spend so much as another night with the Pevensies. You have tonight to say your goodbyes." _

"_No! Please!" she cried, desperately trying to make the Lion change his mind. Despair and panic crowded in on her thoughts. She had built her entire relationship with the man she loved on Aslan's word that he would not stop her from finding love. "You promised me that if I ever fell in love and wanted to marry I could! I don't understand. You promised!!" She screamed the last sentence at the lion as she fell to her knees at his feet, pleading. _

_Aslan continued, unyielding. "You may not give Peter Pevensie any reason as to your departure. Simply tell him you must go. You do not belong in this world. It is time to come home." _

_With a flash of light, he vanished, leaving her sobbing on her knees in the sand, the surf lapping at her legs, unnoticed in her misery. She thought for a moment on disobeying, simply staying with Peter and ignoring the summons, but she knew that she would be in that church as commanded. She loved Peter too much to build their life together on an act of wanton disobedience to her lord. And she loved Aslan to much to disobey an outright command, no matter what it cost her. Clutching the lion necklace Peter had given her for Christmas in her hand hard enough to leave marks, she stayed bowed over her knees letting her tears mingle with the waves until she woke in the Pevensie's house, tears still coursing down her cheeks. _

She managed to keep up a facade of normality throughout most of the evening and threw herself into party with an almost desperate merriment. She could tell Peter suspected something, but couldn't bring herself to say goodbye until the last possible moment. There was still a chance she could convince Aslan to let her come back to England and be with Peter. She could never stop hoping that they would be able to be together or she would break completely from the grief. She would not lose the man she loved, but neither could she disobey a direct command from Aslan. All she could do was hope and pray she could convince Aslan to change his mind.

Peter spend most of his time dancing with her and she clung to him a bit longer and harder than she would usually have done. He looked at her strangely, but didn't comment.

After a beautiful dance that Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy did together that reminded her poignantly of Narnian summers and dryads dancing in the fields, the band stopped and started mingling with the crowd. Leona was standing next to Peter, when a hand grabbed her elbow.

"Leona!" the band leader exclaimed. "We haven't seen you in forever! I had thought you had moved."

"No, Sara," Leona said with a little laugh. "I just found other things to do."

Peter looked a bit confused, and Leona rushed to introduce him. "Oh, Peter, this is Sara. I used to sing with her band every so often, before I met you." Since Peter had often needed to concentrate on his studies she would meet up with the small local band and sing with them for extra money or sometimes just so she didn't have to sit in her flat with nothing to do but think.

Peter cordially shook hands with Sara. "Hello! I didn't know that I was taking Leona away from you, or I would have insisted that she spend time with you."

"It's alright," Sara said. "She would just come and sing every so often for us." Sara turned to Leona. "You must sing tonight!"

Leona made noises of protest, but Sara would not be budged. "We will not play another note, unless you sing first."

Leona didn't particularly feel like singing, but didn't want to make a fuss. "What would you like me to sing?"

Sara thought for a moment. "That one song that you told us you wrote! I can't remember all the words, but the tune was beautiful." Sara hummed a few notes and Leona nodded, recognizing the song. She had wrote it just after coming back from England for the first time. It was about her role as the Guardian, standing alone, yet until now, never regretting it.

"I suppose that is as good a song to say good-bye with as any," she said.

She accepted the guitar from it's owner and sat down on a chair someone brought her. After a few chords of introduction she started to sing. Her song was that of a person standing alone; in the face of danger, adventure or even death was left to the audience to decide. The song was to the loved one's left behind, with a command to not weep for the heroine, for she knew what she was facing and faced it willingly. She sang of hope, resignation, and a willingness to face the world alone if need be. The words could be lonely, but at first Leona's voice was filled with hope.

As the song went on, she threw more and more of her heart into it and tears started running down her cheeks. She didn't _want _to stand alone, she wanted Peter by her side from now until the end of time and beyond. But she was being called back to the lamppost. . .

As the music built to a crescendo she looked up from her flying hands, and she met Peter's eyes. She started to sing again, but the song had changed. The heroine was no longer facing the hazard without fear, but with the knowledge of a soldier before a battle, seeing the enemy charging towards her. There was fear and pain in her voice and as she sang a farewell, there was dismay and grief in the song. The hero may still be resigned and willing, but she did not want to face the danger alone, did not want to bear the burden by herself, but knew that she must. She stood alone.

Letting her fingers still, she vaguely heard the audience applauding her, but as she felt Peter's arms wrap around her in comfort the world faded away to include nothing but him. Embarrassed for crying in public she started apologizing, but he hushed her and led her away to a side niche where they could speak privately.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked. "Why are you crying?"

She looked up at him and her tried to find the words to let him know what was wrong. She moved her mouth but said nothing for a moment, then she finally managed to speak. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I have to leave."

Peter's face grew pale. "What do you mean? Did you want to go back to the house?"

She knew that if she didn't tell him now she would never have the courage, so she went on talking. "I thought we would have plenty of time together, but... I was wrong. I was wrong."

Peter looked alarmed now. "Leona, I don't understand. What are you saying?"

"I can't stay," she whispered, tears still streaming down her cheeks. But, she was determined to leave a little hope in both him and herself. "But I _will_ come back. I will return as soon as I can."

Peter grabbed her shoulders. "Leona, you're frightening me! Where are you going?"

She gave a despairing little laugh. "I can't tell you..." Suddenly, it all was very real now that the time had come to say goodbye. She muttered, "I can't do this..."

Peter gave her a little shake and her face hardened. She reached up and kissed him, hard, trying to memorize his taste and his smell. She knew she would never forget his face.

"No matter what happens, I want you to remember one thing, Peter Pevensie. I love you, and that will never change. I will love you past the point when time has any meaning. I _will_ return. Remember!"

She kissed him again, then, before he could stop her, pulled out of his grasp and slipped into the crowd, heading toward the door. She knew Peter would try to follow her, so she hurried through the building and flagged down a cab at the street corner.

After a quick trip to the Pevensie's house for her luggage, she had the cab take her to the local church where she hid until the next afternoon, then caught the quickest train back to London. By the time she got back to her flat it was past dark and all she could do was collapse on her bed and cry.

The next day was spent dispersing the few things that she had accumulated during her time in England and closing up the flat. She visited Mr. Marker at the bakery and quit her job, asking him despairingly to not tell Peter that he had seen her. She felt guilty for not giving Mr. Marker details because she knew that he would think Peter had hurt her, but she could think of no other way to stop Peter following her. This was hard enough without having to worry about meeting up with him before she left England.

It was midmorning on January 3rd by the time she had gotten Prowler into the cat basket and had met the train for the trip across London. The train had stopped for what was expected to be at least a half hour while they cleared the tracks of ice. She had a finger through the holes of the wickerwork basket and was petting Prowler when a voice called her name.

"Leona?" Lucy asked in disbelief.

Leona turned her head with a start. "Lucy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you!" Lucy said sharply. "Peter's been a wreck since you left! How could you just leave like that? Shame on you! I had thought better of your character. Now that I've found you, you are going to explain to Peter what all this nonsense is about. He's waiting at the next station."

_  
Oh, Aslan, no_… This was her nightmare, to have to face the family that she so wanted to be a part of, but be unable to tell them why she was breaking Peter's heart as well as her own.

"He's here?" she softly wailed. She leaned down and picked up a cat carrier from the floor beside her. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to get off here then. I can't face him again, not so soon..."

"But, why?" Lucy burst out. "Why do you have to leave him? Peter loves you, like I've never seen him love anyone before."

Leona had silent tears flowing down her cheeks. "I don't leave because I want to, Lucy. I leave because I must."

"Why must you leave?" Lucy asked again.

"I can't tell you," Leona nearly sobbed. She turned to leave the train car.

"Answer me one question then," Lucy said. She leaned close and whispered, "Does this have anything to do with a place called Narnia?"

Leona pulled back. She knew she ought to have been surprised, but somehow it fit. The Pevensies were likely the children from another world that Aslan would bring periodically to Narnia. Now that she bothered to remember, the four royal children's names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. She'd encountered the names so often in both Narnia and England that it simply hadn't occurred to her put it all together.

Lucy was still waiting for an answer, so she said simply, "Do you think anything less could keep me from Peter?"

Lucy looked stunned for a moment, and Leona took advantage of the other woman's surprise to push past her out of the car and vanish into the crowd outside.

It was a good half hour's walk from the train station to the church that she was to be in to be taken back to Narnia. She couldn't recall how she managed to get there, her mind was spinning so hard. Perhaps if Peter had been to Narnia before, she might be able to convince Aslan to let Peter come to her and she would remain the Guardian? Possibilities swarmed in her head, but hope was still tempered with pain. She had never known Aslan to take back an order once given…

She was nearly to the steps of the church, which sat next to the train station she had been intending to arrive at originally, when the voice she was both longing and fearing to hear called her name.

"Leona! LEONA!" Peter cried from behind her. She turned to look back at him, one last time, then felt her body go rigid with shock and terror. Peter's face was filled with relief and despair, but it was what was going on beyond him that held her spellbound.

The train she would have been on, and that Lucy and the others _were_ on took the turn too fast. Flipping up off the tracks it spun in midair and then landed, skidding towards them, obliterating buildings as it went. The sheer destruction that could be caused in the space of a few seconds was astounding. She screamed as it hit a side building, and whatever was in the building exploded into gouts of flame. Flying debris overwhelmed Peter and he was lost from sight. Dust and smoke rose up in a cloud and the impact from the train landing knocked her to her knees.

Choking on the dust, she scrambled back to her feet and ran towards the place where she last saw him. The noise was incredible, the sound of fire roaring like a beast and the distant screeching of sirens as the city was alerted to the disaster.

"Peter!" she screamed. The way was blocked by burning planks and broken stone. She could hear the screams and moans of the wounded but didn't care. All that mattered was finding Peter. Struggling over shifting debris she could feel her dress catch on sharp metal fragments of the mangled train. A single thought passed through her mind for her friends who would have been on the train. There was nothing she could do for them . . . She caught sight of a single bloody hand lying limply under a sheet of metal from the train. Sobbing, she scrambled over to it and managed to pull Peter free.

She wanted to start screaming and never stop. She could tell from the misshapen look of his chest that his ribs had been crushed beyond repair and that there was nothing anyone could do to save him. Peter was dying. He opened his eyes and seemed to want to talk, but she shushed him then leaned over to kiss him. His lips were cold against hers and she knew he had only moments left. Her heart shattered to pieces within her. Was everyone she loved doomed to die and leave her alone? Her family's deaths had nearly broken her, but she knew that without Peter, she would no longer have anyone to live for.

A screeching noise had her whipping her head around as another train, unknowing of the disaster before it, also came around the curve and slammed into the earlier wreck and exploded. She threw her body over Peter in a vain attempt to protect him, when her world dissolved in a roar of fire and noise.

TBC…

Those of you wanting the lyrics to the song Leona sings , they are in the first part of chapter 16.

Author's note for chapter: Sorry this update was three months in the making… cowers from angry readers. All I can do is plead for clemency and beg that you won't hurt an injured author! (I lost a fight with some black ice Christmas Eve and now I have a brace on my knee and am missing an inch square piece of skin.) Yes, Merry Christmas to me… I will attempt never to go this long without an update, but don't be surprised if there are a couple of months between chapters. I'll try and get my inspiration flowing again, but no promises. I CAN promise that this story will never be abandoned. But, patience may be required while I get my creative juices flowing again.


	28. Chapter 28: The Lion's Call

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 28: The Lion's Call

Real Narnia

"I found myself here, and then watched most of the end of Narnia from behind you. It didn't feel right to come up and join you at that point," Leona told her audience as she finished her story. Peter, Edmund, Lucy and the others had started out walking along through green meadows as Leona shared her story, but eventually ended up settling down in a glen on the bank of a burbling stream to listen to her.

Peter met her eyes as she looked at him. None of her listeners had interrupted her once during her whole narrative, and she seemed a little uncertain as she waited for a response. Peter knew what she was unwilling to ask him and answered before she had to put it into words.

"I'm not upset at not knowing any of this before, when we were courting," he said. "In a way, I'm glad I didn't know. I think if I had, there would always have been some doubt in my mind about whether I loved you or the girl from Narnia. I already know and love the real you, the fact that we are both Narnian is just one more thing we can share."

Leona's smile was filled with relief and she silently slipped her hand into his. Edmund, Lucy and the others seemed to still be taking the amazing story in and didn't have anything to say. They had gathered a fairly decent crowd while Leona was talking and there were a good twenty to thirty Narnians in the glade with them, some of which they already knew and others that were friends of King Tirian. Prowler had alternated between sitting on Leona's lap and wandering over to the Queen Lucy and Lady Jill, who were more than happy to stroke his soft fur until his purr nearly made the ground vibrate.

"So where were you when we all ruled?" Edmund asked. "If you had been in Narnia then, wouldn't you have at least recognized our names?"

"I didn't spend much time at all in Narnia from the point the White Witch was defeated until well after you all vanished," Leona replied. "Aslan had me in Calormen stirring up trouble. He wanted to make sure that the situation there was unstable enough for the Tisroc to be unwilling to commit an army to conquering Narnia. I only ever saw Peter and that was just the once." She grinned at Peter, who blushed and looked a little uncomfortable.

"I still want to hear that story," Ed said with a mischievous grin. "Anything that can make Peter blush like that has to be good!"

"That story will come out when we have more time," Leona said, taking pity on her beloved who looked anything but keen on having that particular tale recalled. "I may not have spent time in Narnia when you ruled, but Prowler did. I don't know what Aslan had him doing, though."

Prowler stretched out on the grass even further to allow Jill to rub his belly. "I spent three years as one of the Queen Susan's lower messenger pages. It let me stay in the castle to keep an eye on things, but wasn't so busy that I couldn't vanish on occasion if Aslan needed me elsewhere."

The indigo-horned unicorn that had settled himself at King Tirian's side shook his mane and made the first real comment on her story. "There have been legends among the Old Narnians about the Guardian," he said. "I can only hope that when we have the time, you will share some of your tales. If half of the stories I have heard are true, Narnia owes you a great debt indeed."

Leona bowed her head at the unicorn in thanks, and replied, "I have a feeling that my duties are not yet completed."

As if in response to this, a Lion's roar echoed through the air, strong and loud, bouncing off the mountains, rippling through the leaves and sending every living thing trembling as it passed.

"We are summoned," Edmund said, rising to his feet and gazing in the direction the call came from. Everyone, from the humans to the Talking Dogs panting in the shade sat up straighter or rose to their feet. The Eagle sitting on a branch of a nearby bush took to wing with a screech.

"Further up, and further in, we are called!" he cried.

Peter rose as well and pulled Leona up after him. With a look into each others eyes and a shared grin, they took off running, following the Eagle. There was a scramble as the rest of the party followed. It was amazing. Never before had he been able to run this fast! The ground flew beneath his feet and the Eagle overhead could make no better time. It had been years since Peter had run just for the sake of running, and no matter how hard he ran, he never got out of breath or tired. Aslan's roar pulled him like a scrap of iron to a lodestone.

As he ran, he noticed others running beside them, joining their party from all directions. It seemed that the newcomers were not the only ones Aslan summoned. Everything in this whole world had been called to one place for one purpose. He could vaguely recognize his surroundings and knew that in Old Narnia, they were nearly to the Valley of Beruna. He topped a rise and saw their destination spread out before him in a breathtaking vista. Beruna Valley had always impressed him, with the sheer cliff on one end and the mountains rising to challenge the sky. The bowl shaped valley had hosted more battles than any other place in Narnia. Here in Real Narnia it would host the final battle.

He could see people running from all directions to meet on the edges of the valley. Most stopped at the edge and simply stood there, waiting. Peter and the other humans still felt the urge to go further and did not stop running until they stopped at Aslan's feet where he stood on the bluff overlooking the valley. He could see ranks upon ranks of human men and women standing behind Aslan facing the valley. Peter even recognized some of them, King Caspian stood in the front row, and he could see King Cor of Archenland with his brother, Corin beside him. He would have greeted his long-lost friends but felt that now was not the time. Edmund, Lucy, Jill, Eustace, Polly, Digory and Tirian walked over and joined the ranks of Narnia's and Archenland's kings and queens, leaving Peter and Leona to take a place at Aslan's side. Peter's breath caught in his throat as the feelings that Aslan always inspired in him rose in his chest like bubbles. The aura of strength and love that Aslan's mere presence gave off bathed him like the Lion's warm breath. He could see Edmund giving him a proud smile and he nodded in return to his brother.

"Old Narnia is no more," Aslan said. He spoke at a normal tone, but Peter did not doubt that every being, from faun and Talking Beast to human ringing the valley could hear him. "There is but one thing left. Tash must be defeated. He has preyed on the flesh and spirits of my people, and must be banished forever from here. He is a strong and cunning enemy, and will require strong and cunning opponents."

The Lion turned to Leona and asked, "Leona, will you fulfill this last request as Guardian? Will you champion me?" Leona drew close to kneel at Aslan's feet.

"I've followed your will for more than a thousand years; I do not intend to stop now. Yes, I will fight Tash in your name and with your power."

The Lion bent his head down to nuzzle her cheek and she raised her hand and laid it on his muzzle with a tenderness that spoke more clearly than words, her love for the Lion she served.

Aslan turned his head to face Peter. "Peter, High King, come before me." Peter stepped forward and knelt at the Highest King's paws.

"Leona is the Guardian and as such is destined to face Tash," Aslan said. "You have no such requirement. I would have you fight at her side, but I will take no more than you are willing to offer me."

Peter had expected this since Tash had told him that he would join the Guardian in fighting the bird-headed demon, but Aslan's request tore his heart open with awe. _Aslan_, who Peter knew could destroy Tash with a simple wish, was asking _him_, a mere man to champion the Lion and fight in his stead. It was a request and not a command; Peter knew that if he so wished he could refuse, giving the honor to some other worthier fighter, but Peter could not let himself decline. He placed his hands upon the hilt of his sword as he drew it and, gazing into the Lion's eyes, swore the oath that had never been required of him as High King.

"You say you will only accept what I offer," he said, "so let me offer everything! I offer my hands, that they may do your will. I offer my obedience, for I am not wise enough to know what I should do. I offer my mind, to think of nothing that is evil. I offer my heart, that it may love without restraint. I offer my very soul, to cherish or destroy at your will." His voice grew stronger in the stark silence of the surrounding listeners, and began to echo - as if calling upon the very earth and sky to witness his oath. "I offer my service, in life and in death, in glory and in humiliation, in freedom and in slavery, in joy and in pain. I offer my failures in hopes that you can make more of them than I; my victories I lay at your feet. I would offer my Kingdom, but it's already yours. I have nothing left to offer, save a ferverent wish that it is enough." Peter's heart was full almost to bursting and he longed with all his being for Aslan to accept his oath.

Aslan shook his mane and gazed with love and pride at the King prostrate at his feet, a true scion of Adam in all the glory and honor the position was meant to hold. The Lion had watched this man grow from a timid and uncertain boy to a High King capable of siring legends that would span millennia. But far more impressive than the adventures endured and the battles won by the High King were the unspoken actions of Peter. Never a coward, Peter would step forward to meet any challenge, even if he doubted he would succeed. He practiced kindness to anyone in his path, from a lost Talking kitten to a broken hearted maiden. His devotion to his duty was unquestionable, for he held himself to a standard far higher than anyone else ever laid on him. He would spend hours with his own battle wounds untended so the dying eyes of a solder who's hand he held would finally close in peace gazing on his High King. Every trial that life put in his path, Peter conquered by sheer will alone. He was not perfect, for no mortal could be, but he tried harder than most.

Above all, Peter loved. He loved Leona, his siblings and family with an all-encompassing depth that was fortified with his willingness to throw himself in harm's way rather than see them suffer. He loved Narnia with a passion that was unmatched by any save Aslan himself, and he gave of himself without reservation to her service.

Almost to himself the Lion said, "And to think - some once wondered what it was that you possessed that would have me name you King over all Narnian kings, both those that came before you and after..." Leaning down Aslan rubbed his cheek gently against Peter's. "I accept your oath, Son of Adam, and take into my keeping all that you offer. You will fight Tash in my name." Aslan then breathed on Peter, and the man felt the weight upon his brow increase as his crown turned into a battle helm. The shield at his side lay forgotten as another sword appeared at his belt. A quick glance showed it to be the sword Leona had given him for Christmas back in England.

He looked at Leona and found her gazing back at him with a look of mingled wonder and pride. With a determined tilt to her chin she turned to Aslan. "Will you be guiding my actions as you usually do when I fight for you?"

Aslan nodded. "I only need to augment Peter's natural abilities and direct his strategies, as he is a worthy warrior on his own. You I may need to take over completely in order to have a warrior on the field capable of holding back Tash while Peter adjusts to my guidance. At any rate, you cannot fight dressed as you are." The Lion breathed on Leona as he had Peter, and Peter watched as her hair went from loose to tightly braided, and her blue gown changed to armor, while a gleaming rapier and a long dagger appeared at her side. Now girded for battle the two champions rose to their feet and each took a place on either side of the King of Kings.

Aslan spoke softly, his words meant for their ears alone. "Tash's abilities are limited here in my land, but is still a formidable enemy. He is also the only creature in this land that can harm you, so be cautious. In balance to that, you are also the only ones able to harm him. I will aid you in every way I can and ensure that you have everything you need to win, but you must still defeat him yourselves. Now, go and destroy the last remnant of evil that this world will ever contain."

With no more than a thought, Aslan moved his champions from the top of the bluff to the center of the valley.

Peter felt a twinge of deja vu. He had fought his first battle on this same place in Old Narnia, and now would fight his last here as well. He unsheathed each sword from his side and saw Leona doing the same. She turned to meet his eyes and said, "For Narnia..."

"And for Aslan," he replied. With a smooth motion, he pulled his visor down. In a voice that had echoed across battlefields and stirred the hearts of his men, the High King called the greatest enemy Narnia had ever had to fight.

"Tash! Come forth and submit to Aslan's judgment!"

In a flash of sheer darkness, Tash was before them, almost as tall as a Narnian giant, with the body of a man, but with four arms and a vulture's head. The grass didn't wither beneath the clawed feet here as it did in Old Narnia, but Peter could sense the earth beneath his feet almost shifting in discomfort at the hated presence of the demon. Tash wore a breastplate of overlapping bone slabs, and little else, though what looked like either strips of black cloth (or shadow given form) clung to his waist and hips. It was the first time Peter had ever been able to view Tash up close and he knew the first tinge of fear since he had entered this world. Aslan was right; if Peter lost, Tash would utterly destroy him and possibly everything he held dear. Leona shifted at his side and gave a small shiver. Peter realized that the last time she had encountered Tash was when she was helpless under the High Priest's spell and about to be sacrificed alive to the fiend before them. He felt a flash of pride that she stood at his side without flinching away from the monster.

Tash darted his head back and forth focusing his attention first on Peter then Leona, beak gaping in an avian sneer. The thought went through Peter's head, _He's very fast. He can go from complete stillness to lightning fast in a second, I'll have to watch out for that... His vision will be different from ours, we should be able to find a way to take advantage of that blind spot. But that also means we'll have a harder time attacking from two sides... This isn't going to be easy, even with Aslan's aid... _

"You dare to challenge me," the demon screeched. "Why doesn't your great Lion fight me himself? Or must he hide behind mere mortals?"

Peter's hands nearly shook with rage. "He has no need to fight a creature such as you, nor should he have to. Your evil was worked upon mortals, and so it shall be destroyed by your own victims."

"Foolish, little king! When this is over, I will make you watch as I ravage everything you hold dear. As for you, little she-cat," Tash said, turning to Leona. "I intended to finish what was started with you on my altar. You wish to fight me, so be it!"

In each of the four hands an enormous curved sword materialized, seemingly shaped of shadow. Peter did not doubt that they were more than solid, particularly as Tash swung one towards a large boulder and the blade sliced through the stone like butter. Peter nearly felt sick at the thought of how easily those swords could cleave through flesh and bone... As the fear started to edge into his mind, Peter could feel a warm presence envelope his mind like a blanket, setting in on the edge of his mind like an unseen watcher.

_Courage, dear one, _Aslan's voice whispered. _You are not alone, I will help you as much as you can let me. _

At his side he could see Leona's posture changing as she seemed to listen to a voice of her own. The sword in her hand that had gone slack with fear rose to point at Tash. Peter squared his shoulders and glared at Tash as Aslan's presence sent fear scurrying away. It was time to end this, no matter what the end might be.

With an unholy screech, Tash leaped towards them. Two shadow swords swept at Peter, two at Leona. Both champions raised their weapons to block and the battle began.

Peter had never felt like this before. He could actually feel Aslan's power coursing through him and guiding his movements. He knew when to dodge before he was even aware of a sword stroke coming. He could see Leona out of the corner of his eye and could almost sense her movements as well, because he could always tell when she was going to strike a blow and would automatically know how to follow up on her attack. It was amazing feeling, but still very distracting. He understood what Aslan meant about his having difficulty in letting the Lion guide him. Tash darted in at him and with the instinct and talents learned throughout his time as a Knight of Narnia Peter dodged to the left, but no sooner had he moved than Aslan gave a blast of warning in his mind and all but pulled him to the right. The sudden change of direction left Peter horribly open.

Tash took advantage of that opening with a screech and managed to score the first true blow of the fight, catching Peter a solid blow to the head that knocked his helm clean off and set his ears to ringing. Even though the shadow sword didn't draw blood, Peter could feel the side of his head where the blow struck growing cold and he thought he could feel his skin almost shriveling from the near-touch of the blade. He staggered to his knees, stunned, but thankfully Leona was there attacking Tash and keeping the demon from taking further advantage. Oddly enough, the blow to the head centered him and it was far easier to let Aslan's power flow through him.

Watching how Leona fought was a surprise to Peter. She had said that he had never seen the Guardian fight and she was right. There was a fluidity to her movements that was hers naturally, but the physical strength and fighting prowess were unfamiliar. He caught a glimpse of her eyes glowing and catlike as they passed each other striking blow after blow and blocking each returning strike. Aslan was almost living inside her skin or moving her like a puppet, and Peter marveled at her self control not to fight that sort of possession. He didn't have much time for introspection, as he caught sight of the first true opening Tash had given them so far. While one of Tash's swords stabbed at him, the other three darted at Leona, who dodged neatly. Blocking the sword headed his way with Rhindon, Peter swung his other blade through one of Tash's arms, severing it entirely. Tash shrieked and reeled back. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Peter would have been amused at the look of shock on Tash's face that a mere mortal could have wounded him.

Even though Peter hated to give their foe even a moment to regroup, he dared not rush in blindly. Tash was an enemy that was beyond anything he had ever even dreamed of facing before. For all the hard blade work done so far, somehow this seemed too easy...

Snarling in rage, Tash shook his head savagely, and four of his large black crest feathers drifted on the light breeze to fall to the ground. As soon as they hit the soil, the feathers started to move. Growing from the vanes of the feather came a half-decayed head, then bony forelegs followed by the back and hind legs of an enormous hyena. The skin was only seen in patches with the rotting muscle visible and bones as black as the feather that they had been created from peeking through where the flesh had decayed completely. The eyes of the horse-sized ghouls glowed red with the fires of Hell. Tash shook his head again and the remaining four feathers fluttered to the grass. The first four demon hyenas started circling the pair of humans as their fellows took form.

"Oh, you must be joking," Leona breathed at his side. Peter didn't bother to answer, but simply got a firmer grip on the sword in each hand. This enemy was something he knew he could fight, un-dead though they seemed to be. He figured that if he hacked them into enough pieces these lesser demons wouldn't be able to continue fighting. He could see Tash a little way away trying unsuccessfully to reattach his severed arm. He had a flash of relief that any blows they struck seemed to stay. The last thing they needed was Tash to be able to heal himself...

With a snarling bark the first ghoul leaped at the pair, the others following close behind. Leona brought her sword up as she neatly dodged the first hyena but the creature was fast enough that she couldn't score a hit on it. With uncanny speed it landed and swiftly turned for another attack. Peter ran forward to help, but before he could reach Leona's side he found himself with his own set of problems; three of them to be exact... One ghoul bit at his left ankle while another leapt for his head. The third seemed content to circle him waiting for its brothers to bring him down.

He swung Rhindon in his right hand at the ghoul leaping at his head, and drove the sword in his left hand at the one snapping at his ankle. He struck the ghoul at his feet squarely in the head driving his blade from the top of its skull to its chin. Rather than dying as was only proper for a blow so serious, it simply howled in pain, tossed its head, wrenching the blade from Peter's hand and flailed about trying to remove the sword. Startled by this, Peter didn't get Rhindon in place in time. The second ghoul crashed into him with the force of a giant and bore him to the ground. He tried to score a blow to the creature but could only manage to ward off the snapping jaws. Warm saliva mixed with blood and rot dripped from the mouth bare inches from his head, landing on his face and slicking his hair.

At this moment, Peter finally understood what he needed to do. The answer was so simple and yet so difficult. For a bare moment he stopped fighting; stopped fighting the ghoul and stopped fighting Aslan's guiding presence in his head. As soon as the moment of surrender came, the presence that was Aslan surged forward to lead. Strength flowed through Peter's body and a triumphant peace filled him up. Why was he afraid? His faith was not misplaced and the only thing he had to worry about was his own doubt. His hand took a firmer grip on the sword and as the ghoul reared back to deliver the death blow, he brought the sword forward and with one mighty swing severed the fiend's head.

It seemed that this was the key to defeating the ghouls as the headless body sank to the earth and collapsed into dust at his feet.

Strength and power flowing through every pore of his being, Peter strode over to the still flailing ghoul and severed the wounded beast's head. Picking up his second blade from the ground where it had fallen when the impaled ghoul had disintegrated, he turned to face the battlefield once more. Leona was fighting two ghouls and seemed to be holding her own. It didn't surprise Peter that Leona had an easier time surrendering to Aslan's will; she had centuries of practice at it after all.

He darted towards the four remaining ghouls before they could quite make up their minds who to attack and managed to decapitate one before they had even started to move. The other three were fast, but with Aslan guiding him, Peter was even faster. One snapped at his arm but he managed to dodge it with almost uncanny ease and severed its head as it overextended. The other two circled him from opposite sides, and both sprang for his head at the same moment. At any other time, Peter would have seen his life flashing before his eyes, but now he knew to drop to one knee as they soared over his head. He slashed both blades forward without looking up, and two ugly heads fell to land at his feet before vanishing into dust.

He looked quickly for the other two ghouls but Leona had managed to defeat one already and as he watched she killed the other with a graceful swing. Peter could feel Aslan's presence slowly flow into the back of his mind as he took over his own mind again. He could still feel the little nudges and guidance, but he could tell that the Lion meant him to finish this fight on his own if he could.

Tash was a little ways away, watching as his creatures battled in his stead. Peter and Leona fell into step as they stalked towards the demon.

Tash clicked his beak at them in an enraged hiss and words started pouring from his mouth. Peter couldn't understand them and had a horrible feeling that he didn't want to. He came to a stop, unwilling to go any closer until they knew what Tash was planning.

Each foul, hissed sound sent icy chills down Peter's spine, but he raised his sword in defense against whatever was being summoned.

The earth in front of Tash shook as the spell grew in volume and menace. A crack split the ground as Tash cackled in triumphant glee.

Peter watched in horror as a clawed hand reached out of the chasm, then another and another. Every foul, twisted creature that had ever served evil willingly had answered their master's call. Rank upon rank of the damned poured from the crack to bar the path and fill half of the valley with foes. When Peter thought there could be no more, still they came, until the air was filled with their hissing cries. Most had no familiar form and bore little resemblance to any Narnian creature, but he could see what they might have once been in life, now twisted and decayed.

He looked at Leona in dismay. How could they defeat so many? And how did Tash manage to call reinforcements here to Aslan's Country? She looked back at him with a sick look on her face.

The sudden ring of a sword clearing a sheath sounded behind him. Peter whirled around and at the sight broke into a grin. Edmund had come to stand at his right side, blade in hand. Caspian stepped forward to take a place at his left. Peter felt his heart soar and he heard Leona give a delighted gasp.

Aslan's forces filled the valley behind him, host after host of worthy warriors standing shoulder to shoulder. Oreius pawed the ground nearby, and Peter could see King Cor and his twin brother, Corin, heads held high and weapons at the ready. Every warrior and hero from this world's conception to its death were ranked behind him ready to do battle one last time.

Caspian reached out and clasped Peter on the shoulder. "It is true that only you and the Lady Guardian can battle Tash, but let us help with the demon's minions. This is our home too."

Peter turned to Edmund at his right and cocked an eyebrow at his brother. Edmund just smiled his roguish grin and said, "You don't really think I'd let you have all the fun, now did you?"

Peter grinned back, and looked across the field for his true foe. The triumph that had filled the demon's face when he had called his forces to the fight had vanished and was replaced with thwarted rage and a hint of fear. All of Peter's worries and doubts had fled to the back of his mind and his body trembled with sudden energy. With such a host at his back, no misbegotten creature of evil could get between Tash and his sword.

He thrust his blade towards the hissing, screaming mass before him, and shouted defiance at the sky in a call that echoed from one side of the valley to the other.

"For Aslan! Charge!" As he broke into a run, Leona darted to his side and they led the rush as Tash raised an arm and with a shriek, loosed his horde. The thunder of Aslan's army at full charge shook the ground and almost drowned out the unholy noise of Tash's creatures.

Peter saw his first opponent bar his way and without pausing, he ducked the slashing claws and ripped Rhindon through its belly. With a shriek, the creature vanished back to whatever Hell Tash had summoned it from. Another foe drew near and a slash sent it skittering away in fear.

He never knew how long they fought. It seemed like no sooner did he dispatch one foe when another two sprang up to take its place. But, slowly the flow slowed to a trickle and Peter could pause for a moment to take in the battlefield. Both armies had been cut nearly in half, with the defeated pawns of Tash being banished back to their realm and any warriors of Aslan's who fell being summoned back to the ranks of watchers on the valley's rim.

He dodged battling fighters as he made his way to Leona's side and they started looking for Tash. Though there were still plenty of dammed to battle, their leader was nowhere to be seen. The battlefield seemed empty, with no fallen to litter the ground. Tash could not have been slain in the melee and Peter didn't think that he'd be able to run from this fight. The skin on the back of his neck started prickling. He hated not knowing where his true enemy was, particularly an enemy as cunning as this one.

His only warning was a rush of wind as Tash leaped from the top of the boulder he and Leona were standing near, a shadow sword slicing towards Peter's head. With only moments to spare he managed to raise his blades to parry. The other two swords were aimed at Leona but she dodged them with a catlike grace that betrayed Aslan's influence.

Without missing a beat, Leona sprung forward and managed to sever an arm, but paid for it as one of the two remaining arms crashed into her and sent her flying. She landed with a solid thud against one of the large boulders that littered the battlefield. Peter almost felt a flash of worry, but knew that Aslan would help her if he could.

Sure enough, Leona was back on her feet in seconds and at his side driving the now badly wounded Tash against one of the larger boulders in hopes they would be able to get his back to a wall. Even wounded, Tash was dangerous and vicious blows had both champions battered and bruised from the falls and tumbles needed to avoid the chilling blades. They were not tiring as they would have in Narnia or England, but they could not keep this fight going forever. The smaller battles around them barely intruded on Peter's mind, all his focus was on this one, most terrible opponent.

At long last, he saw an opening and went for it. Darting in, he swung Rhindon with all his strength at Tash's last remaining right arm. Too slow!! his mind screamed, Aslan's guidance barely registering as the Lion let his champion prove his worth. Tash realized his mistake and moved to try and counter before Peter could finish the blow. Desperation adding speed to his attack, the High King lunged wildly, hoping to sever the arm before the opening was gone. In a movement no mortal being could have managed, Tash twisted his blade and scored a deep gash in Peter's side as he passed. But, the opening remained and thinking of nothing except his goal, Peter gave a mighty slash and Tash's arm fell to the ground as the demon screamed in pain and rage. Peter staggered back as well, a gasp of pain and shock escaping his lips as his entire side went cold and weak. He could feel a measure of dizziness twitch at the edge of his consciousness and he knew that if the blade wasn't poisoned it was at least tainted by Tash's malice. The sword in his left hand dropped from his weakened grip to fall to the ground and he clutched his arm to his bleeding side. He didn't think it was a fatal blow, not here in Aslan's Country at any rate, but it left him badly weakened and whatever evil tainted the wound had spots swimming in front of his eyes.

Tash crouched in on himself, his only remaining arm still clutching a sword. The hatred and rage in his eyes would have driven Peter back had he not been bolstered by Aslan's golden presence in his mind. As it was, his wound was swiftly weakening him and he had to fight the urge to sink to his knees for a moment's rest. Sensing weakness, Tash moved to finish off the wounded king.

Leona barred the way with a wild cry, putting herself between the demon and his prey. Peter could see Aslan's influence in her movements as she gave blow after blow, driving her foe back. She almost managed to connect, but Tash twisted out of the way and the demon's retaliating strike sent her sprawling to the ground, her sword knocked from her hands. Tash dove towards her in fury, beak snapping, intending to bite her in two.

She scrambled backwards trying to get to her sword, but the demon was almost on top of her when he stopped, standing motionless, Peter's sword at his throat staying his strike. He had seen Tash's attack on the woman he loved and all pain and weakness were driven from him in his panic. With all the speed he could force from his body he ran to her side, praying to reach her in time. He could feel Aslan reaching out in his mind and he let the Lion take over. He was within a foot of Leona as he swung Rhindon in a last desperate attack, the angle of the swing aiming to sever Tash's head as he charged.

Time seemed to slow and any noise from the battlefield dimmed to nothing as his entire world focused on the arc of his blade as it flew towards Tash's neck. Panic filled Tash's eyes as he desperately tried to pull back enough to avoid the fatal blow. Earth flew up in chunks beneath the clawed feel as he managed to stop, Peter's blade resting menacingly at his throat. Peter noticed absently that Tash seemed much smaller now than he had been at the beginning of the fight. Perhaps as his strength wained, so did his size.

"Do you yield?" Peter panted, blood streaming down his side.

Tash snarled wordlessly at him and Peter dug his sword deeper into the fiend's neck. "Do you yield?"

The reply from the beaked mouth was angry and grudging as Tash turned to face Aslan, and snarled, "I yield to your justice. I am defeated."

At those words any of Tash's remaining fighters vanished. The valley exploded with cheers as every being lining the battlefield raised their voices in triumph. It could have been minutes or years before the noise died down and Aslan spoke. Leona had gotten to her feet by then and joined Peter in holding Tash at sword point.

"Be gone from here," the Lion pronounced. "Be imprisoned in your own place, with those who already follow you. You will never attempt to return to any of my countries. This is my judgment."

Chains materialized around Tash's neck and one remaining arm. With a final angry scream he disappeared in a flash of darkness, and was gone for all eternity.

TBC....


	29. Chapter 29: Eternity

This has to be the fastest update in over a year! And to think I have most of the next chapter already written already! Many thanks to my wonderful beta elecktrum, without which this story would be a lot worse than it is! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter twenty-nine: Eternity

Peter felt the wound on his side vanish and become whole and unblemished again. Sheathing their blades, he and Leona walked to stand before Aslan. Peter could feel Aslan's power still coursing through him, but lessening the closer he came to the Lion. At his side he could see Leona's armor changing back into her blue-green dress, and her hair fall out if its braids to hang loose around her shoulders.

"Well done, High King," he said, and at those words the last remnant of Aslan's power trickled out of him, leaving him just Peter again, though traces still lingered, tingling through his body and mind like fine wine.

"Well done, Guardian," Aslan said to Leona, then "Evil is no more!" This last was roared out, and the watchers around the valley roared back, cheering.

As if Aslan's declaration was a sign, the watching ranks dissolved into joyous greetings, embraces and welcomes. Edmund nearly tackled his brother, whooping in delight at the victory. King Caspian made his way to Peter and was the first of many old friends to give him a welcoming embrace, followed by King Lune of Archenland. Others came after, with people Peter was half afraid he'd never see again lining up to say hello. General Oreius came up to give him a warrior's handclasp and a warm hug. He could see Lucy crying with joy as she was hugged by Mr. Tumnus. Leona was being greeted as well, and it occurred to Peter how many people she would have encountered and befriended over the centuries of her life. Throughout the glorious period of introductions and reunions, Peter made sure to keep Leona in his line of sight, interested in who would come to greet her. He saw her burst into tears and be enveloped by a family he'd never seen before, but that he knew must be Leona's parents and siblings. Sure enough, he was quickly pulled over to the group and an overwhelmed Leona introduced him to the people she had not seen in over fifteen hundred years.

Eventually the hubbub died down and everyone started migrating their way east. Some jogged, others ran darting like deer, faster than any mortal creature could move. Most just walked, catching up on news and old jokes, or simply glorying in each other's presence. Peter and the other new arrivals did not want to be parted from Aslan, and so they walked alongside him. Many of their long-dead friends stayed with them, unwilling to part for even a moment after so long a separation.

"Where is Queen Susan?" Oreius asked. Peter wasn't surprised at the General being the first to question them about their missing sibling. Oreius and Susan had always shared a bond, almost turning into a father/daughter relationship. It started out mostly because they had the similar interest of keeping the rest of the siblings alive, but Oreius became the person Susan would go to with the things that she didn't feel comfortable talking to Peter about.

"She is still alive back in our world," Lucy said. "As far as I know at least." She turned to Aslan. "Is there a chance for Susan to join us? When it's her time of course..."

"There is always hope," the Lion told her comfortingly. "Susan will come when she has again earned her place."

Lucy smiled again and said, "Once a queen of Narnia, always a queen of Narnia..." The three Pevensies were indeed comforted by this thought and knew that while their royal sister had a hard future ahead of her, she had the strength and spirit to see her through.

"Where are we going?" Edmund asked the group at large.

"You are to be presented," Caspian replied. "If you go far enough East, you will come to the gates of the Garden. Inside that Garden is the court of King Frank and Queen Helen."

Peter looked delighted for a moment. "So, he is King here, too. I hope he still gets to be a gardener, since that's what he wanted most! I can't wait to see him again."

Caspian laughed. "As soon as I arrived in his court, King Frank asked me about you! He said that you seemed a fine, upstanding man who would make a fine, upstanding king. He is sure to want to greet you, and your other friends from your trip into the West are eagerly awaiting your arrival as well."

Leona had come up and slipped her arm into Peter's. "What happens when we reach this Garden and the court? I'm sure that Peter, Edmund and Lucy will need to establish themselves as Kings and Queen, but how does it work? I see you still wear a crown so I assume you are still a King, but of what?"

Caspian bowed graciously to her. "As respect to your status as Aslan's chosen, you all will be presented at court. It gives an opportunity to meet people that you otherwise wouldn't see or think to look for. After that you can do whatever you please. As for how this place works, it's hard to explain. Think of this world as an onion with many layers, all of them connected and each one bigger than the last. For example, I live in Cair Paravel and if I want to visit my son, Rilian, I can see that he lives in Cair Pavavel in the same rooms I do, but he's not in MY Cair Paravel. It's world, inside of world, inside of world. If you want to go back to your old rooms in Cair Paravel you can, it's there waiting for you. So each King and Queen throughout the whole history of Narnia has his or her own realm just the way that they lovingly remember it. Once a King or Queen, always a King or Queen."

The group had been heading further and further West as they were speaking and seeming to cover much more ground than they would have thought possible by simply walking. But an urge to run came over Peter again.

Grinning at Caspian he said, "If that's what is awaiting us, then farther up and further in!" Then, with a challenge in his eye, he took off running to the West, Caspian at his heels and the others in their party following behind. Leona passed him, fleeter than a deer with her skirts flaring around her trim ankles. Quite pleased with the view, Peter willingly let her lead.

They passed prairies, mountains, rivers and lakes, even defying gravity to run UP a waterfall. Peter recognized some of the scenery rushing past from his adventure seeking the apple of the Tree of Life and knew that they would soon be coming to a series of impassible mountains. To his delight, here the mountains were anything but impassible. Where in Old Narnia there were sheer cliffs, here a smooth passageway cut through the mountains leading to a hidden valley in the center, like a small child protected by its larger guardians. Leona fell back to run at Peter's side and they started slowing as they reached the hill in the center of the valley on which sat the large, walled Garden. It looked to be the size of a small city park, with high walls and only one gate. They drew to a halt at the closed gates. Peter almost felt a flash of nerves at those imposing walls, but before he could start to worry, they drew open and a Mouse walked through them, a rapier at his side and a feather in his cap.

"Welcome, in the Lion's name, come further up and further in!" Reepicheep greeted them, and Lucy darted forward to embrace the Mouse. Others followed Reepicheep out through the gates from the Garden greeting them. Peter could see King Tirian being embraced by a man who could only be his father. Surrounded by old friends and new, the group slowly made their way into the Garden.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks for this was not the Garden he remembered. Instead of the beautiful orchard filled with succulent fruit, a radiant valley stretched out before his eyes like Paradise unfolded before Adam's first glance.

"It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside," breathed Lucy at his side, but Peter almost didn't notice he was so absorbed in the beautiful view before him. Almost to himself he murmmered, "What could we ever have done to deserve something as beautiful as this?"

Edmund came to his side, and said, "I don't think it's something_ we _did."

Reepicheep drew close to Peter's side and pointed to a glittering castle in the center of the valley. "King Frank's palace," he said. "You are expected. Come further up and further in."

Almost numb at the beauty before him Peter moved to follow the Mouse as he led the way through rich green meadows and past thundering waterfalls. This place was indeed Paradise and the idea that he would be allowed to set foot there, perhaps even take Leona and explore some of its beauty, was overwhelming. Leona slipped her hand into his and he looked down into her hazel eyes.

"Have you ever seen this place?" he asked.

She shook her head. "The farthest into Aslan's Country I ever saw was the Cliffs at the Edge of the World. But I'm glad I didn't see this before now, I'd never have been able to make myself leave."

They walked in silence, hand in hand until they reached the shining palace. Even Eustace and Jill walked in silence. The doors opened before them and they filed into the marble floored entryway. Room after room, each more welcoming and beautiful as the next met their eyes as they went deeper and deeper in. When they finally reached a set of massive golden doors Reepicheep paused. Peter noticed that the large crowd that had surrounded them since his and Leona's battle with Tash had vanished, leaving only the newcomers from England waiting in the room. Even Aslan and Prowler had left them.

"Wait here, and I will announce you in turn," Reepicheep said with a smile. The Mouse turned to the golden doors and with a simple touch they opened, letting in bright sunshine, the sound of happy conversation and a smell of sweet flowers.

Jill looked rather nervous and started smoothing her skirt and playing with her hair. Eustace reached out to grab her hand then said, "Stop your fussing, you look lovely." Then seemingly embarrassed by his own daring he blushed and looked away, but didn't release her hand. Peter grinned. It seemed that his cousin had finally got his nerve!

"King Tirian of Narnia!" The last king of Narnia squared his shoulders and marched out through the doors.

"The Lord Eustace and Lady Jill!" came Reepicheep's voice from the doors, and heads held high the two walked out into the light and out of sight to the sound of joyful applause from the unseen court.

"The Lord Digory and the Lady Polly!" Even more applause came this time and murmurs of wonder at such a thing as the two children who were there for the beginning of this world finally coming home.

"King Edmund the Just and Queen Lucy the Valiant!" With a cocky grin from Edmund and a small wave from Lucy the pair passed the threshold, leaving Peter and Leona alone.

Leona started fidgeting and Peter looked at her with surprise. "Are you nervous?" he asked. "Surely you've been presented at a court before!? I should think that with all your missions you would have done this at least once before."

She nodded. "Yes, I've been presented, but never as Me. It feels odd to know that whoever is out there knows exactly who I am and welcomes me as such, instead of whoever they are suppose to think I am."

This simple statement truly brought home to Peter how much of herself Leona had given up in order to be the Guardian. Never to be known as yourself and to always know that the people around you were reacting to something or someone that wasn't quite real. It must have been like living all your life wearing a mask that no one could ever penetrate. He felt such pride in her for that sacrifice and raised her hand to his lips for a kiss.

"The High King Peter the Magnificent and Lady Leona the Guardian!"

With a deep breath, Peter tucked Leona's hand beneath his arm and the stepped into the light. There was a beautiful courtyard the size of a large meadow open to the brilliant sky before them and on either side lined all the worthy Kings, Queens, Lords and Ladies that ever graced Narnia, Archenland or Calormen. Great heroes from legends told round a campfire bowed as the pair passed, and Peter was sure they could hear the cheering all the way back at the Stable Door. With each step, Leona's confidence grew as they approached the dais up ahead. Like the dais at Cair Paravel there were four thrones, but with a higher portion in the middle, where Aslan crouched and two thrones sat empty. Peter recognized the man in one of the two filled thrones but not the woman at his side. When Peter had meet King Frank on his journey to the Garden on a quest from Aslan, the other man had been dressed simply and had proclaimed himself just a gardener. This man was far from a gardener, but Peter could still see the friend that he had made just when he had needed one the most. Frank gave Peter a wink then lifted the hand of the beautiful Queen at his side to his lips in salute to her.

They reached the dais and in unison, genuflected before Aslan in homage. At a nod from the Lion they rose then made their way to the King and Queen seated at Aslan's right side. Peter bowed and Leona swept her skirt out in an elegant curtsy, but before they could even bend down to the proper depth, Frank rose from his throne and gestured for them to rise.

"No, friends," he said with a smile. "For the titles you bear and the services done to this realm you have earned the right to bow to no one save Aslan and his father, the Emperor Over The Sea."

They rose and Peter nodded to Frank, one King to another.

"Peter," Aslan said, drawing their attention back to the Lion. "Your throne awaits." He nodded towards one of the empty thrones at his left hand.

Peter looked at Aslan in surprise. From what Caspian had said, Peter had thought that no King in Narnia was higher than any other, save King Frank who was the first king.

"It is the throne of the High King of Narnia," Aslan said, gently.

Still, Peter hesitated a moment. He did not feel worthy to be placed above these other Kings and Queens regardless of his title. He knew he had been a good king and a decent ruler, but there must be others who had done as much as he and had failed less often.

Aslan shook his mane in what could have been either amusement or exasperation. "I did not name you High King simply because you were eldest of your siblings. I knew what kind of man you were and would become. For each sleepless night you spent doing your best to make Narnia a kingdom worthy of every blessing my Father could bestow on it, I named you High King. For each time you took a violent blow in willing place of another, I named you High King. For the sacrifies you made of your own happiness, I named you High King. For each time you watered Narnian soil with your own shed blood, I named you High King. For your willingness to step down from your throne and offer it to another at my bidding, _I named you High King_. It was for this reason you were brought into Narnia and also why you were taken out of it may not think yourself worthy, Peter, Son of Adam, but _I_ do."

In his old life, Peter would have blushed scarlet to hear his praises spoken like that, or in his more arrogant and prideful moods thought it only his due. Now, each word the Lion spoke settled into his heart and mind, filling in the holes left by doubt and worry. He _had _sacrificed much for Narnia. He _had _shed his blood over and over protecting her. And he had made one of the hardest choices of his life when he had told, then Prince, Caspian that he had come not to take the throne, but to put him in it. For all that he was still a flawed man with all the human frailties, he was by Aslan's decree, High King of Narnia.

Leona gave his hand a comforting squeeze, slipped her hand out of his and went to stand beside Lucy. With Aslan's approving gaze and the eyes of every worthy peer to have set foot on Narnian soil since her conception watching him, the High King ascended the dais, turned to face the crowd and sat in the throne that had been meant for him from all eternity. Edmund and Lucy's visages stood out in the sea of smiling faces as the world exploded into a roar of cheering that reached to the stars.

It seemed that this meant that the formal court was adjourned as King Frank then came rushing over to embrace Peter in a back-slapping hug. "Well met, my friend," the older man said. "I'm glad to see you. You took your sweet time about coming though!" This last was said with a teasing wink, and Peter grinned back at him.

"I had things that I needed to do, people I needed to meet," Peter replied thinking of Leona. She had been standing with Lucy and Edmund, but now he could see her waiting at the foot of the dais smiling at him. He cocked his head in an invitation for her to join him, and she stepped up to his side. Lucy, Edmund and Caspian also joined them seemingly unwilling to be separated for any longer than necessary.

"So what happens now?" Peter asked Frank.

The other King shrugged. "Some people take this opportunity to do the things they never had a chance to do in life. Personally, I spend most my time in my garden when I'm not visiting friends. Others simply glory in the presence of those that they thought lost forever. The only guideline here is that you cannot want what you cannot have. It's very simple."

"The only thing in life that I regret not doing is asking Leona to marry me," Peter said, smiling down at Leona who walked beside him, hand in hand.

"I would have said yes, too," she whispered to him, squeezing his hand.

Ahead of them, Aslan snorted. "I don't see what you are waiting for, Peter. The ring is still in your pocket."

Peter stood stunned into shock. "You mean... we can do that here?"

Leona was confused as well. "But, aren't we, well... dead?"

Aslan had come to stand next to them and replied with a smile. "Do you feel dead?"

Leona looked perplexed but a feeling of disbelieving hope was showing in her face. "Yes, but still, no, not really. Does that matter? I thought marriage was only for when you were alive!"

"Marriage is the highest form of love a man and woman can share. A mortal marriage ends in death, that is true, but usually the love that they share does not. One of the first things many couples do when they are reunited after death is wed again, usually with myself marrying them," Aslan said, obviously pleased with the astounded and hopeful looks he was receiving from his two champions.

Peter turned to Leona, not willing to wait for even a moment, regardless of all eternity before them. "Do you truly think you can spend the rest of eternity loving me and letting me love you?"

Her face was all smiles as she replied, "I can't think of anything else I was planning on doing."

Slipping his hand into his pocket for the lion-headed ring he had put into his trouser pocket on that last day in England, Peter went to one knee. As High King, he had never willingly knelt to any other than Aslan and Leona understood the honor that was given her. Her small hands trembled in his larger ones.

"We have all of eternity before us, would you spend it as my bride?" Peter poised the ring on the tip of her left ring finger, looking into her eyes for permission to push it home.

Her finger moved in his hand and he watched as she slid her finger forward onto the ring. "Yes," she said simply.

Lucy and Jill shrieked with delight and started hugging Leona. Peter was so overjoyed that she had said yes, that he almost didn't feel Edmund slapping his back with a grin and an admonition of "About time!"

King Frank broke into a hearty belly laugh. "Friends!" he called out over the crowd. "It appears that we shall have a wedding! Does any here object?"

"I would be heard!" a deep voice shouted from the bustle of people and a handsome, black-bearded dwarf made his way to the dais. Peter didn't recognize him, but Frank apparently did.

"My lord Drakar," Frank exclaimed. "You cannot truly object to this match?"

The dwarf snorted. "Object to the match, no. But I want to know that the High King will do right by the lady." Turning to Peter he asked, "You are High King, will you make her your Queen or simply your wife?"

Peter raised Leona's now beringed hand to his lips and kissed it, "If Aslan does not think she merits a crown of her own, she may have mine!"

Drakar grinned and turned to Aslan. "Then with your permission, Lord, I would ask the honor of crafting the Lady Leona's crown, for she has been kind and generous to my family line."

Aslan laughed. "Granted, the only reason Leona didn't arrive here crowned is because I felt that both she and Peter would prefer it this way! But it has been a long time since you last forged a crown. Do your fingers still remember their skill?"

Drakar drew himself up indignantly. "The only crowns I ever forged sit on the heads of King Frank and Queen Helen. If I could forge with such skill with such rude materials as were found in Old Narnia, just think what I could do with those found here! Still, I could use an assistant... Oi! Brickit!!" He shouted this last at the crowd and a second black dwarf came trundling to his side.

"Get your tools," Drakar barked. "We've work to do. You can remember how to forge a crown?"

Brickit looked almost insulted. "I forged four of them! You only did two! I think I have a bit more practice, but we shall work together. Oi! Edmund!"

Edmund wandered to the dwarf's side, "You bellowed, Brickit?" he said with a grin.

Brickit stared up at him and said, "You aren't the best assistant I've ever had, but you'll do. Come along, Spawn." The two dwarves wandered out of the meadow, Edmund following behind. Peter grinned at Leona, who seemed in shock that the dwarves who'd forged the six most beautiful and famous crowns in Narnia were working on one for _her_.

"Aslan," came a soft voice, and a faun, a dryad, and a naiad approached the dais. "We too have a boon."

"Speak," the Lion invited.

The dryad and nyad stepped forward, curtsying to Leona. "You never hesitated to risk yourself helping our people. For that, we beg permission to make your wedding dress."

Leona sank to the dais, utterly overwhelmed. Peter sat down next to her and put his arm around her. He realized how odd this must seem to be recognized for the work that she had spent centuries doing in secret.

The faun approached Peter, and bowed. "I was one of your soldiers, but before that I was a tailor. You neglected your own wounds to hold my hand as I lay dying. For that, I ask to be allowed to prepare your wedding garb."

Peter was stunned and could barely nod his head in acceptance. The line of gift-givers and well wishers didn't end with the faun. Dozens of others came approaching the dais, begging for the right to offer their tokens and assistance in return for things that Peter had always thought to be his duty as King! Leona was nearly in joyful tears by the time everyone had come to greet them.

Edmund came slipping back to Peter's side and sat down on the dais next to him. "Believe it or not, everything is nearly ready. Would now be a convenient time to wed?" Peter felt an odd sense of timelessness, because it seemed as though his brother had just left, how could he have had gotten everything prepared? Then he rememberd that time really only affected the living. Here in Real Narnia, time did what you wanted it to!

"The only thing missing is Susan and your parents," Leona said at his side. "But there isn't anything we can do about that..."

Aslan reached down and nuzzled her. "Susan will know, even if she cannot be here. As for Peter's parents, I did tell you that Real England and Real Narnia are connected. I think we can manage to get them here for something as important as this. " Leona wrapped her arms around the Lion's neck in a hug before every excited woman in the crowd from Lucy to Queen Helen chivvied her away to get ready.

The meadow was a riot of flowers, blooming in clumps in every nook and cranny. Peter stood next to Aslan in clothes that he never would have imagined before today, Edmund at his side. He knew he looked his very best and was anxious to see what the naiads and dryads would have made for his bride. Leona had been pulled away to change and get ready and he couldn't wait to see her. There was no nervousness about the success of this marriage. How could there be? Happiness here was a guarantee, and Aslan's blessing lay on every action they would do together.

The most talented singers and players who ever lived in Narnia filled the air with breathtaking music. The crowd in the meadow seemed almost to big to possibly fit, but Peter could easily make out each beloved face with his parents standing proud as anything in the very front. The music changed and a tremor of excitement ran through the ranks.

Originally the guests had simply been standing in a muddle, but at an unspoken cue a center aisle appeared with Kings, Generals and warriors on either side drawing their swords in salute. Lucy and King Tirian, Jill and Eustace, Polly and Digory each filed down the aisle in pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen, smiling from ear to ear. After them came each of Leona's brothers and sisters. Peter barely noticed Lucy's grinning face, and it took all his self-control not to crane his neck trying to see the woman he was looking for.

An audible sigh filled the air from the guests as Leona started down the aisle. Her father had her arm in his and Prowler majestically walked on her other side. Peter stopped breathing. He had always thought she was pretty, but now he called himself ten times the fool for ever thinking her simply pretty. Her dark hair was loose and tiny flowers peeked here and there among the strands. Her white dress used simple lines, but the fabric looked as if it had been woven out of starlight. Peter could see her bare feet with every step she took and the grass almost welcomed her touch.

When she reached Aslan and Peter, her father kissed her cheek and went to stand with her mother in the crowd. Then Leona leaned down and Prowler leaned up on his back legs to nuzzle her face in a Cat's kiss. With no hesitancy, she took the last few steps to Peter's side.

"This is not going to be like a mortal wedding," Aslan began. "Because this is not like a mortal marriage. Here there is no fear, only joy; no anger, only love. Love here is never aging, never fading, utterly eternal. Just as marriage is the ultimate proof of the love between a man and a woman in life, so is it here, in True Life.

"Peter, High King, do you vow to spend all of eternity as one with this woman? To love her, take her as your wife, your helpmate and your Queen? To spend each morning waking to the sight of her face, to spend each day at her side, to spend each night in her arms?"

"I do." Peter's words rang out loud, confidant and clear.

"Leona, Guardian of all of my mortal domains, do you vow to spend all of eternity as one with this man? To love him, take him as your husband, your helpmate and your King? To spend each morning waking to the sight of his face, to spend each day at his side, to spend each night in his arms?"

Peter remembered how she had promised on their last night together in England to love him to the point where time had no meaning and beyond. When she disappeared into the night it seemed almost like empty words, but now it seemed more of a prophecy...

"I do," she said. She couldn't stop smiling, and her face glowed with such happiness it outshone the gown she wore.

"The rings," Aslan prompted. Peter had a sudden moment of panic as the only ring he had arranged already sat on Leona's finger. Edmund stepped forward and solemnly went to one knee to presenting a pillow with two newly forged rings to the Lion for inspection, then handed the more delicate ring to Peter. He grinned in thanks to his smirking brother, then slipped it on her finger saying, "With this ring, I thee wed for all eternity." Simple words, yet more than enough.

She in turn slipped Peter's ring on his finger, pledging, "With this ring, I thee wed for all eternity." Hand in hand they turned to Aslan.

"High King Peter, do you acknowledge this woman to be your wife and queen?" he asked.

"I do," Peter declaired. Aslan turned to Edmund, who presented his brother with a delicate crown nestled on a satin pillow. It was similar in design to the one Lucy wore, but in gold and more like a tiara than a circlet. His hands steady, Peter took up the crown and turned to Leona. She bowed to him and he settled the crown on her head. He took up her hand again and they turned to face Aslan.

"Eternity is before you, true love at your side, and all fears behind you!" Aslan roared. "I declare you King and Queen, husband and wife!"

Peter almost couldn't believe that this was real. With a jubilant cry he bounded to his feet and swung his wife in his arms, laughing as loud as he could. What could he ever have done to deserve this bounty? Aslan was before him, Leona was in his arms, and Narnia was spread out before him with the promise of never-ending joy.

The End.

Credits: I stole liberally (with permission) from my beta elecktrum's wonderful fic "Into the West". Any references to Peter's trip to the Garden are hers as is the friendship between King Frank and Peter. Brickit the dwarf and Edmund's skill at a forge are hers as well.

Author's note for chapter: Well, this is it. All I have left is an epilogue and this story is done. I almost can't believe it. The epilogue will be up on April 30th. Until then enjoy this last full chapter and don't forget to review!


	30. Chapter 30: Epilogue

Epilogue

Susan stretched out on her bed. _That was the most amazing dream,_ she thought. She kept her eyes closed to trap the images in her head a bit longer. With the house all to herself after everyone had left for the train station, she had decided to take a nap and no sooner had her head hit the pillow than she was transported back to the place she had most wanted to forget. She dreamed that everyone was back in Narnia, even Leona. Susan was there too, though no one seemed to be able to see her. It was as though she followed her siblings through this new Real Narnia like an unseen ghost. But, oh, the things that she had seen! The Narnia she had loved destroyed, yet it had only been an image of something even better. Everyone she cared about was dead, but yet more truly alive than ever before. Peter and Leona battling evil in Aslan's name. Aslan himself... Susan had forgotten how much she had missed Aslan. Of all the things that ripped her heart out when she thought of her time as Queen, it was the thought that Aslan, of all creatures, had been the one to banish her that hurt the most. But for the first time in years, it didn't hurt to remember. Somehow the dream had closed that open wound in her spirit and she could think of Narnia without pain and even with a hope that someday she could come back.

Susan sat up and thought hard. She always hated liars, but by wallowing in her own pain she had become one. It was time to face the facts, and she felt she owed her siblings a big apology. She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen for some paper so she could write a letter to Peter.

She settled down at the kitchen table and managed to get as far as _Dear Peter, I am so sorry... _ before words failed her completely. What to say? How could she manage to admit that everything she had denied and been anything but a fantasy? Then she thought of Peter sitting in the living room when she had confessed to him that she didn't want to remember Narnia. He had said, "I understand. Sleep and forget, but remember, once a king or queen, always a king or queen. Your crown will be waiting when you are ready to pick it up again." She needed to ask for forgiveness, but in her heart she knew it had already been granted. It wasn't too late to rejoin her royal family.

She put her pen to paper again, but there was a knock on the door. Brow wrinkling in surprise, she left her letter on the table and went to answer it. The policeman on the doorstep took his hat off as she pulled open the door.

"Miss Pevensie?" he asked.

"Well, one of them at any rate, Officer," Susan replied with a nervous smile. "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry, miss," the man said. "I have some very bad news..."

* * *

Everyone who attended the mass funeral for the Pevensies, Jill Pole, Eustace Scrubb, Digory Kirke, Polly Plummer and Leona Hart gazed in wonder at the last living member of that amazing extended family. She didn't scream or wail, or make a scene. There was never any question about her pain, a single glance at Susan's pale face and the tears that were rarely missing from her eyes told any viewer that she grieved with an intensity that was heart wrenching. It was her bearing that sent whispers through the black-clad crowd of mourners.

"She bears her sorrow like a queen," one woman murmured in awed respect. "It's as though she's decided that she can't change anything except how she acts and now acts accordingly. I've never seen her like this."

As each coffin was laid in the frozen ground, Susan would lead the mourners in placing flowers, hard to find in winter, on the graves, her face growing paler and paler by the moment, but her head never bowed, her shoulders never slumped, her strength never faltered.

Few people stayed to the end, little clumps of mourners drifting away as the coffins were covered Susan stayed. A few others kept vigil as well, either for their own reasons or simply to support her.

Susan stood as if in a dream as the last headstone was wrestled into place. She had to fight, and fight hard for the bodies of those Narnians not of her own family, but fight she had and won. She almost felt guilty for playing the pity card with her aunt and uncle and Jill Pole's family, but it got her what she wanted: all of them buried together. The dignity, grace and determination that had served her well as Queen of Narnia had come back with the dream. She denied it no longer, even to herself. Narnia was real, no matter how hard she had once willed herself to believe otherwise. All that was left was to live her life in England in the same way that her siblings had done, as a Narnian. She understood now. She didn't need to be in Narnia to still be its queen, and there were many more important things in life than the latest styles and the prettiest clothes. A queen was a queen, whether she was in silks or in sack-cloth, whether she was home in her royal bed, or living in some other world entirely. Once a queen of Narnia, always a queen.

She stared almost blankly at the headstones that covered the mortal bodies of everyone who was of any real importance in her life. So deep was she in her thoughts that she almost jumped when a hand gently touched her arm. She turned to look at the strange young man that had come to stand beside her.

"It's over now," he said, quietly. "It's getting cold; you had better come inside to the wake."

"Do I know you?" Susan asked, softly.

The man, who looked to be about Peter's age, blushed and seemed rather flustered and sheepish. "Oh, no, I don't think you do. I'm Anthony Jones; I'm a friend of Peter and Leona from university."

"Ah, I think I've heard them talking about you every so often," Susan told him, now placing the young man as the friend that had introduced her brother to the woman he loved so dearly. She didn't mean to seem rude, but her eyes turned back to the gravestones again, almost unwillingly.

With the dream as a warning she hadn't been surprised to find Leona among the dead when she had gone to claim the bodies of her family. The rescuer that had found her said that she had died draped over the body of Susan's older brother, as if protecting him from any further harm. Since Leona had no other family in this world, Susan had claimed her body as well.

Anthony turned to look at the graves as well. "May I offer my condolences? I'm sure you will hear this from everybody, but I'm amazed at how well you are taking loosing everyone like this. Peter always said that you were the strong one in the family and I guess this proves it. It would destroy me utterly to be in your shoes." Anthony stopped talking suddenly, as if realizing that Susan may not have wanted to be reminded of her loss in so blunt a manner.

She didn't seem offended, and simply said, "I thought that something like this would destroy me too. But, in a way, I know that it can be done. You _can_ lose everything and still go on. You simply have to want to, and know that death really isn't the end or even good-bye, just a momentary parting in the grand scheme of things. I'll live in hope that I'll see them again in time."

Anthony looked at her in wonder, amazed that someone so young could have such a grasp on the mysteries of life and death. Trying to get the conversation, if a conversation it could be called, back onto a level he felt comfortable with, he said, "I like the titles on the gravestones. I only knew Peter and Leona but there was _something_ about the both of them, and you too, come to think of it. It felt almost royal, like a dignity that circumstances couldn't take away, and an inner knowledge and faith that was a wonder to behold. I always wondered what made them so different from the rest of us, what they knew that made it easier for them to be such good people. I guess I'll never know now..."

Susan turned and truly looked at the young man by her side. He was staring at the two graves at the end that covered Peter and Leona, side by side. The look on his face was pitiful, full of grief and a loss of hope. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

"I know," she said. "And maybe, someday, I'll be able to tell you." She saw the hope return to his eyes and his shoulders straightened, almost imperceptibly.

"I'd like that," Anthony said simply.

A cold breeze sped through the air and Susan could almost hear the echo of a Lion's roar in her ears as she met the eyes of the man beside her in the now deserted graveyard.

"I think I'm ready to go inside now," she said. "There's nothing left to do out here."

As Anthony offered her his arm to lead her inside to the wake, Susan turned one last time back to the graves. _Your journey's are over,_ she thought. _Mine is just starting anew, but with effort and hope, we will all end the journey in the same place. Farewell for now, my royal family._ She turned her head back towards the building where people were setting out food and drink.

Neither Susan nor Anthony looked back again, and in the graveyard the wind whistled through and around eight gravestones. Susan had been insistent over the engravings included with the usual birth and death dates, and like Anthony had pointed out, somehow, everyone thought them appropriate.

Digory Kirke

_Lord Digory the Wise_

Polly Plummer

_Lady Polly the Cheerful_

Jill Pole

_Lady Jill the Bold_

Eustace Scrubb

_Lord Eustace the Loyal_

Lucy Pevensie

_Queen Lucy the Valiant_

Edmund Pevensie

_King Edmund the Just_

Peter Pevensie

_High King Peter the Magnificent_

Leona Hart

_Lady Leona the Guardian_

The End.


	31. Chapter 31:Omake

Author's note:

I've always hated when author's did a fake chapter that was just an author's note, but I'm finding it's the best way of letting you all know the good news. The Guardian has been re-worked, added to and freshly beta-ed! Each chapter has been edited then reposted. Frankly, if you thought it was good before you should see it now! Feel free to review the chapters that you didn't have a chance to review before and let me know what you think.

I originally posted a little clip of Peter and Leona's wedding night, but after much reflection decided that the topic didn't really fit in with the rest of the story. It wasn't graphic but still wasn't working in well with the rest of the story. Anyone who does want to read all 464 words is welcome to PM me, but personally I don't think you're missing anything important.

Acacia


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